


Constellations

by gaps42



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: A bit of angst but mostly happy lesbians!!!, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Fluff, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-02-15 08:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 174,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaps42/pseuds/gaps42
Summary: New girl Jane Hopper is more than the sun; she's a collection of suns, a constellation, and Max knows better than to stargaze too long. Or, she always thought she did, until she found herself in a new solar system.The f/f high school AU we deserve.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So people were SO kind about my first attempt at writing (I don't know how to reply to stuff, I'm so sorry, I'm figuring it out though) and I have about 158 AUs for these two on the back-burner so I thought I'd start sharing and see what sticks? I never see fanfic cliches for f/f couples, like high school AUs and coffee shop AUs and all that, so I wanted to write some fluff for some of my favourite cheesy tropes. This has some period-typical homophobia and bullying in it, fair warning, but it's mostly soft gay girls becoming best friends and falling in love, and it should be at least 10 chapters at this point. I'm trying not to FLOOD the elmax tag but I'm having so much fun writing these, I hope you enjoy reading them too!

When Jane Hopper starts at Hawkins High School, Max doesn't take much notice.

She hears about it, of course; Hawkins is a small town where anything and everything that happens is everyone else's business, and when cranky, borderline-alcoholic Chief Hopper adopts a teenage girl from the city and answers anyone brave enough to ask why with a different, more creative way they can go fuck themselves, the town is buzzing with speculation before they even catch a glimpse of the girl. She appears in town, apropos nothing, three weeks before school starts, and although the Chief keeps her sequestered to his house undoubtedly to protect her from rumours and speculation, the mystery only creates more interest. By the time Max is expertly parking Billy's hand-me-down car in the Hawkins High parking lot for her first day of twelfth grade, the town was hotly debating whether she was a Russian spy Hopper was rehabilitating into American society or Hopper's illegitimate child with a loose, hippie musician in the 70s who'd had to be weaned off of LSD before Hopper had been able to gain custody.

Max had told the boys to shut it when they'd started discussing the new girl over the summer. She remembers what it had been like to move to a small town; she, admittedly, hadn't been faced with quite the same level of speculation, but she remembers the weight of hundreds of eyes watching her, waiting for her to stumble off of the arbitrary tightrope of normalcy they had all agreed on without informing her, so that they could whisper that they'd just  _known_  she'd be weird and not find room for her in the tight-knit community. She'd wormed her way into the party mostly by mistake, partially teenage boy hormones and a bit of her having nowhere else to go, but unlike her friends, she knows what it's like to not have friends  established since kindergarten when the whole town is after you. Her boys would never be cruel, but even having to justify yourself to genuine curiosity from strangers can eat away at a person like acid when you know they've already made their decision about you, and Max makes it clear she doesn't want to hear about the new girl, good or bad, from any of her friends if they don't know what they're talking about.

Besides, Max considers herself above petty gossip; she aggressively avoids the topic of the new girl, talking over Dustin loudly when he leans in to inform the party of how his mother  _totally_  saw the new girl in the beauty parlor and she _barely had hair_ , rolling her eyes and tuning out the girls behind her in homeroom when they giggle about how the Chief of Police let his new daughter out of the house looking like an MTV punk, turning on her heel and walking away when one half of her honors biology class leans over their desks shamelessly after Heather Johannsen hisses that Jane Hopper is coming down the hall. It's almost a point of pride, how little she cares about this new topic in sensationalist Hawkins, and she starts to feel a vindictive stab of smugness when she passes clumps of gossiping students in the halls exchanging new information fervently and she realizes she doesn't even know what Jane Hopper looks like. By the time she's collapsing bonelessly onto the bench beside Lucas in the cafeteria at lunch, wordlessly tossing her bag of chips onto his tray as he pushes his cheese-and-cracker snack towards her without breaking away from whatever heated debate he's already started with Dustin, her mind is so filled with senior-level homework and AP prep that she doesn't even think to look for a new face in the crowd.

It is this haughtiness, she thinks furiously in retrospect, that leaves her so unprepared.

She's keeping her head down as she props one foot up on a bleacher, tying her shoelaces much longer than is necessary. She has gym class right after lunch, which, she'd complained to the boys emphatically the whole lunch period until Mike and Lucas had groaned and tossed peanuts at her, was the absolute worst time to have gym, as she'd just eaten her whole lunch (and half of Lucas's) and couldn't be expected to do anything physical while she was still digesting. She's smiling a bit to herself, remembering how Dustin had tried to cheer her up by speculating on which wasteoid popular girls might be in her class for her to throw up on if she's pushed too far running laps, when two pristinely white sneakers appear on the bleacher above her, and her fingers freeze on the laces.

"Have a good summer, Maxi-Pads?" says the sickly-sweet voice of Annie Watson, and the girls now surrounding Max titter obnoxiously.

Max keeps her eyes on her shoes, tugging her laces nonchalantly, despite them being twisted in a perfect bow. "Pretty good. Not as busy as yours, I bet, since you didn't have time to come up with new insults."

The girls surrounding her shift in surprise, and a few of them actually gasp. Max's eye roll isn't even for show as she stands up, meeting Annie Watson's eyes defiantly. She not an easy target for bullies - she's lived with them in her house for years, she's not exactly a wilting flower when it comes to exchanging insults - but there's safety in numbers, and she's always kept her head down in classes where she doesn't have the boys. It's not usually an issue, with how small Hawkins High is, but in gendered classes like gym she's very aware of how exposed she is without the possibility of the party having her back. The girls surrounding her seem to be aware of how exposed she is as well, as Annie takes a dramatic step down the bleachers to stand right in front of Max, folding her arms over her chest and arching an eyebrow.

"You're so funny, Maxi," she simpers, apparently basking in the anticipation of the other girls surrounding them. "At least you have that going for you - I hope it makes up for having a donkey's ass instead of a face. At least it's enough to get those loser guys you follow around to fuck you - or are they just fucking each other?"

Max flushes despite herself; insulting her looks, she can take, but insulting her friends is another story. "Just because they're literally the only guys in the school you haven't fucked doesn't mean they're queer, Annie," she snaps, something miserable twisting in her guts as she spits out the slur. "It just means they have standards."

She knows she is a lone deer surrounded by a pack of ravenous wolves, but she can't seem to stop her mouth now that it's started running. The girls close in around her on the bleachers, squwacking over each other all at once so high-pitched she can't even understand the threats, and Max is just thinking that her step-dad is going to  _kill_  her for getting sent home the first day of school for fighting when a voice behind them says softly, but with finality, "Stop."

Max isn't sure if it's surprise at the bizarrely simple intervention, or the authority with which it was spoken, but all the girls shut up and turn around at once. Max is a beat too late, and by the time she twists her head around, not wanting to turn her back fully on Annie, the girl at the bottom of the bleachers is continuing, in that quiet but hard-edged voice, "Back the hell off." Each word is separated, as if she thinks  _hell_  is as important in the sentence as  _off._  Max still can't see who it is, and she can't place the voice, but the other girls seem transfixed, shuffling away from Max without seeming to know they are doing it.

"Hopper?" Annie says in disbelief, but her voice is shaking a little. "You - you know Max?"

"I know you're not going to outnumber her five-to-one in a fight like a coward," Jane Hopper says in a clear voice, and Max doesn't think she's ever seen anything better than Annie Watson's expression in that moment. She purses her lips, trying not to laugh, and turns her back on the bully in amusement, rolling up onto her tiptoes to try to see her new hero through the forest of over-coiffed hair in front of her.

The girls don't descend on Jane Hopper like they did on Max when she insulted Annie. There's a long, unsure pause, and then Coach Wilkins blows her whistle and the girls scatter, bouncing down the bleachers in a noisy herd and muttering under their breaths amoungst themselves. Max lets them go, not moving out of their way but not stopping them, either, not hiding her grin when none of them meet her eyes. She glances from her tormentor's backs to the girl standing stoically at the bottom of the bleachers, and the smile freezes on her lips as her stomach drops to the toes she's still balanced on.

Jane Hopper is dressed in the same outdated yellow t-shirt and red running shorts uniform they all are, but she wears them like battle armor. Her narrowed eyes are lined with kohl, doll-like features pinched as if she's trying to make Max bleed from the eyes with just her mind, and something about the intensity of her gaze makes Max half-convinced she might succeed. Her wrists are layered with leather straps and bracelets half-way up her forearm, and her fingerless gloves stretch as she flexes and clenches her fists. It takes Max a long, painful moment to realize how slender the girl is; with the power she's radiating she seems like she should be eight feet tall. Her serious gaze feels like a tractor beam, locking Max in place and mesmerizing her helplessly, and, somehow more than when she was surrounded by hostile girls, her body flushes and warns her,  _danger._

She blinks away white spots when her gaze falls to her own scuffed sneakers; she doesn't remember looking away. "Um." Her throat is dry when she swallows. Stupidly, she realizes she's still standing on her tip-toes, and she feels the blush on every inch of her skin as she steps down onto the bleacher below her, trying and failing to look nonchalant. She both wants to impress this girl to keep her close and flee from her in terror at the same time, and her body doesn't quite know what to do with itself. "Thanks. For... That. You were really -"

Coach Wilkins blows her whistle again and yells for all the girls to  _hustle up_ , and Jane Hopper turns without a word and walks over to the cluster of girls already seated under the basketball net. Max blinks, bewildered, but the other girl doesn't even glance backwards as she lopes across the gym towards their class as if the past five minutes had never happened. Wilkins starts waving her clipboard about and shouting instructions, and Max seems to break free from the tractor-beam spell all at once as she barely catches herself from tumbling down the bleachers.

"Oh... kay," she mumbles to herself, shaking her leg to test her jellied knees, and jogs over to join the class.

She very pointedly doesn't look at Jane Hopper for the rest of gym class, or chemistry class, after she shuffles in to see the other girl strewn carelessly over a seat in the very back of the classroom, the barest glimpse of a baggy band t-shirt peeking out from the lapels of a worn leather jacket enough to make her hands shake for the rest of the school day. She hurriedly turns down the boys's invitations to the arcade and jumps into her car before anyone can ask her for a ride, wishing a bit childishly that she's brought her skateboard to school as she all but tears out of the parking lot. It's only once she's lying in her bed, curtains drawn and bedroom drenched in shadows, that she allows herself to think about serious brown eyes, slicked-back hair, and pitch-black leather on moonlight-pale skin. She wishes, now, that she could have excused it away as the inappropriate interest the small town has with the mysterious new girl, but she knows that's not the mystery that's making her skin warm and palms sweat; it's this _thing_ in her, the part of her that always sits heavy in her guts, that makes her hide women's shopping catalogues under her bed, that steals her breath when a pretty girl in a music video smirks and winks at the camera, that forced her to break the easiest, most natural romantic relationship in the world with her best friend, the most amazing boy she'd ever met, who had expected nothing from her and still gotten his heart crushed. This thing is ravenous and it wants smudged eyeliner and tractor-beam eyes, and as Max exhales shakily and covers her eyes with her sweaty palms, she thinks that the only reason she wants to stop the wanting isn't because of disinterest or disgust, but because there's no possibility of Jane Hopper wanting her, too.

 _Danger, indeed,_  she thinks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long!!!!! It's still pretty short, since the stuff that happens in the next chapter was supposed to be here, but good news is the next chapter should be up by tomorrow if I still have access to the internet. Thank you for the kudos and comments, reading them makes me feel like Max feels looking at El!!! This chapter is about how my curly-haired gf needs hot chocolate and a nap

Jane Hopper gets detention three times in her first two weeks of school.

The first is the second day of school, when she gets booked for smoking outside the gym with the group of edgy-on-purpose kids who always lurk by the doors, trading cigarettes and pretending they don't pose like peacocks when someone walks by. Max has always thought they were trying too hard, and when she walks past the principal's office to see the group clustered on the bench by the receptionist's desk she rolls her eyes, but the only one who doesn't make defiant, victorious eye contact with her is Jane Hopper, knobbly knees poking out of her ripped jeans as she picks at her fingernails, and the image of her is burned into the back of Max's eyelids for the rest of the day. She hears the details in whispered rumors not even two class periods later - how Mr. Dowler had ripped the cigarette from between Jackson Barkley's lips before the rest of the group had noticed him round the corner, how Chief Hopper yelled so loudly it could be heard all the way down the science hall - and as much as she tells herself she's only listening to compile her reasons why she should  _stop_  listening for every mention of Jane Hopper's name, she can't quite convince herself the gleefully scandalized rumors match the pinched, delicate features she sees whenever she closes her eyes.

She hears of the second incident from as close to the source as she will ever get. Mike has first period English with Jane Hopper, and something bubbles unpleasantly in the base of her stomach when she watches his eyebrows furrow as he chooses his words in his careful storyteller way, looming over the group gathered around Will's locker. "Samuels asked her a question and she just... Sat there," he says, leaning against the wall of lockers with a frown. "She didn't even say she didn't know the answer, she just glared until Samuels started yelling. I tried to answer but I think that pissed the teacher off more. Even once she got detention she just looked out the window, she didn't even react."

"Samuels is a bitch," Dustin says cheerfully, digging through the backpack balanced precariously on his knee. "She was probably just pissed the new girl wasn't trembling in her boots at her awesome power."

"She doesn't need to tremble in anything, she just needs to answer the question," Lucas says with an eyeroll. "She sounds like the Chief, ignoring the rules she doesn't think apply to her. Did I ever tell you guys that he ran the same red light my dad did, passed him, and then sent him a ticket in the mail?"

"Only every day all summer," Dustin says heavily, and he and Lucas descend into bickering. Will shuffles away from them, a long-suffering but affectionate smile on his lips, and turns his back on the group to look at Mike. He has to roll his head back on his shoulders to look the other boy in the eyes, Mike is so tall.

"It was nice of you to try to help her, even when she was getting yelled at," Will smiles.

Mike flashes him a smile, but his eyes are still distracted. Unbidden, Max  has a flash in her mind's eye of Mike leaning over Jane Hopper the same way, concerned eyes holding hers as he shields her from threats of detention with his body, and stamps down the subsequent stab of annoyance that comes with it. She knows what that expression means, and she can't be irritated about it without admitting to herself why exactly she cares so much about the idea of Mike and Jane Hopper, so she looks away from Mike's face and wraps an arm around Lucas's shoulder to interject herself into their fight, pretending she doesn't hear Mike say to Will, "She didn't say  _anything_."

The gym class is already buzzing about the third incident by the time Max drags her feet out of the girl's change room. Her eyes automatically scan the room, prepared to dart away as soon as they catch a glimpse of dark, gelled hair or leather armbands, but Jane Hopper is nowhere to be seen. Frowning, she moves toward the bleachers to begin stretching, when the name that makes her traitorous ears perk up from a mile away floats over from the group of girls underneath the scoreboard not even pretending to stretch, and she slows her steps to listen.

"- just started  _whaling_  on him," Helena Martinez is giggling, leaning into the group of girls even as she doesn't bother to lower her voice. "Like, going to town on his face. It was psycho."

"On his  _face?_ " Annie gasps, as if this is the most important detail. "What did he do to her?"

"Like Troy would hit a girl," Helena says with a roll of her eyes. "He kept trying to, like, trip her and stuff, get her away from him, but she just kept jumping back in. She fucking - he held a lunch tray up in front of his face and she  _kicked_  it out of his hands."

"She must have had army training in Russia or wherever she was before," says Linda Trainor sagely. "Who knows how to fight like that? Especially against Troy, he weighs, like, three of her."

"Yeah, Hopper's not doing a great job of leashing her or whatever he's supposed to be doing," Joannie Marshall says, and Max takes a deep breath so that she doesn't start what sounds like it would be the second fight of the day as all the girls laugh. "She kicked Troy's ass pretty thoroughly, I'd be surprised if she didn't get suspended."

"What a freak," Annie almost finishes saying before Max says, loudly, "Pretty brave words, now that Hopper isn't here. After watching what she can do, I bet you'd be keeping your giant mouth shut if she could hear you, wouldn't you?"

All of the girls turn to look at her in one movement, but Coach Wilkins blows her whistle and a herd of girls tramples between Max and the popular kids, and Max is left to stew for the rest of the period, throwing all of her sudden wave of aggression into kicking the soccer ball as hard at Annie as she can.

She doesn't see Jane Hopper for the rest of the school day, even though enough has happened that she finally admits to herself that she's trying to catch a glimpse of the other girl. To her gratification there are more reasonable people in chemistry class, who are enthusiastic about Troy getting pummeled, but the controversial new hero is still sequestered in the principal's office by the time she's passing notes with Will in final-period World History, and the only topic either of them have heard discussed is whether Jane Hopper, new girl and daughter of the Chief of Police, will set the school record for fastest expulsion from Hawkins High School.

_I heard Hopper drove up about 15 minutes after it happened, sirens blaring,_  Will writes.  _If they're still in there it can't be that bad. My mom says being police chief has to have its perks with school policy._  He glances at her face and pulls the paper back, scrawling beautiful, crashing waves and low-flying sea birds over his words, and she tries to rearrange her expression to look less worried.

Hopper's car is still parked in front of the school when she kicks open the doors to skateboard through to the wheelchair ramp. It's half-parked on the front lawn, clumps of torn-up loam collected around the wheels, and Max smiles for the first time since the beginning of gym class as she sails down the ramp, gripping the straps of her backpack to her shoulders. She's so preoccupied with her thoughts that she almost doesn't see them; it's only the tug in her memory as she speeds past, the familiar forms clustered together albeit from a different angle than she remembers, the same curiosity and varying shades of cautious excitement on their faces even without the baby fat, and she can't help the amused exasperation that blooms in her stomach as she finds the memory. She has to loop back around to them, but they're so focused on the pair leaving the back entrance of the school they don't hear her coming, whispering and shoving each other as if the chain link fence would hide their staring from their targets.

"You know," she says quietly from behind them, gratified when they jump so suddenly the chain link fence rattles, "I don't know if I made this clear in eighth grade, but girls don't like creeps watching them from a distance."

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike scowl at her; Will has the grace to blush and look away, although she's positive this wasn't his idea. She grins broadly at them, rolling her skateboard back and forth with one foot. With how stressful she will never admit this day has been, she lets herself enjoy this small moment where she's not the one feeling humiliated over her obsession with Jane Hopper.

Lucas recovers first. "It worked on you," he throws over his shoulder with a grin before sweeping his eyes over the campus, searching for his lost targets.

Max huffs. "It did not work on me,  _stalker_. You had to do a lot of making up before I even considered being friend with you wastoids."

"And boy did he  _make it up_ ," Dustin sings, pouting mid eyebrow-waggle when Max and Lucas each punch him in the arm.

"Jane got out with detentions," Will offers quietly, which effectively distracts Max from her annoyance. She whips her head around before she can stop herself, just in time to catch the swirl of Jane Hopper's long blazer as she swings herself into the front seat of the police vehicle. The toe of her white converse has something red staining it that Max can't quite make out in the split-second before the other girl pulls it gracefully into the car, and her dark hair is mussed and rebelling against her gel in the late-afternoon sunlight. Max feels her eyes unfocus like she's been staring at the gleam of the sun in the glassy water she still misses so much, and she wonders, dizzily, when she started feeling the same way looking at Jane Hopper as she does looking at the ocean.

She jumps at the slam of the car door like it's a gunshot, and her skateboard shoots out from under her foot, rattling down the sidewalk as the Hoppers's car reverses over the lawn. The boys are all staring at her, so she swears more excessively than is strictly necessary and whips around, letting her long, loose hair hide her flaming cheeks as she chases after her skateboard. Mercifully she catches it before it finds the edge of the sidewalk, and she lets her body disconnect from her overheated brain as she steps onto the board, her feet solid and sure of their place in the world even if her knees had turned to water. She kicks off and rides towards her friends, and the rush of the movement under her feet bolsters her enough to let her say, proud of how little her voice waivers so soon after exposure to Jane Hopper, "Ten bucks says she's in detention until Christmas."

The boys all laugh, her moment of exposure forgotten as they shout over each other how much longer they would be grounded if their parents had to come to school for fighting, and as she circles the boys lazily on her skateboard, almost herding them to her car as their bickering turns to whether they should go to the arcade or take turns on Mike's new Nintendo 64, she allows herself one, brief glance towards the tire tracks on the front lawn, the pick-up in her heartbeat maybe not entirely from the rush of skateboarding when she sees the single, small print from a converse in the dirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will: Takes gay to know gay  
> Max: What?  
> Will: What?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something different??? This was supposed to be included in the last chapter, you'll see why it took me so long to post it

If there is one thing Eleven knows about herself, it's that she's  _too much_. She's still not positive what that means, or what exactly it is about herself that pushes people over the threshold of comfort, but from Papa's punishments to the sideways stares she gets whenever Hopper's not glaring down the interchangeable strangers milling about the police station, she knows  _too much_  is what she is, or at least how other people see her. She had mentioned it once to Kali, back when she'd barely had a vocabulary beyond  _Yes_  and  _Bad Men_  and hadn't been able to form her overwhelming thoughts once they reached her lips, but Kali had risen like an avenging angel, beautiful face glowing with righteous fury as she'd lectured Eleven about how being  _too much_  was a badge of honor, how the system wanted her to reduce herself to the lowest common denominator and she couldn't let them win, couldn't let them snuff out that spark that made Eleven and Kali and Axe and Dottie and Funshine better than the rest of the mob who couldn't see beyond what they'd been taught. Eleven hadn't understood most of those words at the time, and secretly wasn't sure she understood them even now, but Kali said them with such conviction, the same way she'd  bossed the gang around at the warehouse or walked out of a convenience store with a week's worth of groceries underneath her coat, that Eleven had nodded and not brought it up again. She realized years later, grumping back and forth with Hopper about  _Just because I smoke doesn't mean you get to, kid, because I said so, don't give me that punk-ass look, no that is not just your face - enough with the attitude_ , that Kali had, inadvertently, given her an answer to the question she had actually meant to ask and decided to be  _too much_  with conviction, glaring back at the suspicious stares and slamming bullies's lunch trays out of their hands when they zeroed in on a smaller student. If she was too much, whether from Papa's careful grooming or despite it, she would wear it like Kali's hand-me-down leather jacket, both as protection against the paralyzing terror of navigating daily high school life at Hawkins High School alone and as a promise to herself that she would use everything she was to make sure no one would ever feel like she had been made to. Hopper loved to remind her that the bad men were gone, Papa was dead and couldn't ever find her or any of the other children again, but just like being  _too much_  she finds that being told it didn't matter didn't change the fact that it felt like it did. Something else Hopper loved to tell her was how this was an opportunity to choose to be whoever she wanted, and although she still had trouble picking out what she wanted from what she should want, it was enough for her to know that the decisions she made were hers.

This, she thinks, staring down at her jiggling knee as she slouches over in the chair opposite Hawkins High School's principal for the fourth time since the school year had started, may not be everyone's perspective on her recent behavior.

"You're not in trouble, Ms. Hopper," Principal Gibbins says with a smile, leaning over his desk to fold his fingers together in front of him. He's not yelling like last time she'd seen him, locked in an hours-long screaming match with Hopper that she had been positive would get her thrown out of school if her fighting hadn't already, but his eyes are the same, too sharp as they stare her down as if he's trying to bore under her skin to find what's hiding beneath. She shifts uncomfortably and glances away again, snapping the blue hair tie on her wrist so hard her toes curl. She doesn't know much about high school, yet, but from her previous experience she's pretty sure getting called down to the principal's office in the middle of class means she's in trouble.

"I just wanted to touch base," Gibbins continues briskly, and Eleven frowns, logging the new phrase in the back of her mind to ask Hopper about later. She's getting better at figuring out words she doesn't know through context, but she can get bogged down so easily in the middle of a conversation trying to figure out what something means that she tunes out long enough to miss half of what the other person is saying, and she now looks up and stops jiggling her leg to put all of her energy into focusing on the man in front of her. "See how you're fitting in here at school, how you're feeling about everything. I know your first few weeks haven't been the easiest, and I was hoping we could change that."

She stares for a moment too long before she realizes that he's not going to continue speaking. He's staring at her expectantly, thin lips only sharpening his eyes as they twist into a frown, and she tries not to blink too many times as she wracks her brain for a response. Change her experience how? Stop disrupting her day by calling her down to the office in the middle of class? Get teachers to stop looking the other way when students start getting picked on? These answers feel too much like the  _attitude_  Hopper's always accusing her of having, and she chews her lip as she glances away from Gibbins's sharp eyes, trying to think of what he wants her to ask for. Truthfully the last three weeks had been one long panic attack, and she's not sure anything is going to change that unless Gibbins completely reorganizes the whole school system and gets the other students to stop trying to make eye contact with her. It was just so much  _more_  than she had ever dealt with before, the crush of students in the hallways, the constant threat of being called on in class to answer a question she only half-understands, the whispers which cut off too suspiciously when she walks into a room. If she's _too much_ , she doesn't have words for what a day of high school is, and she thinks miserably that this is the root of the problem that she can never share with Gibbins or anyone trying to make her time at school easier. Instead she shrugs noncommitedly, her leg starting its nervous shaking again as she avoids his eyes in favor of a very interesting crack in the tiled floor.

He shifts in the corner of her eye, and she can feel the irritation coming off him in waves. Instinctively she tenses, but she forces herself to take a deep breath, shaking fingers finding the blue elastic around her wrist.  _Different kinds of anger, kid_. "Nothing at all I can help you with?" Gibbons says, a bit louder, like she's sprinting down the hall away from him instead of avoiding eye contact. "Your classes are not too challenging? You've been home-schooled up until this point, correct?"

Eleven's stomach sinks, and she snaps the elastic as she frowns at the floor. Hopper had warned her that people would be all-too interested in her past, but as far as she could tell their speculation ended when she had entered the room. Her new guardian had drilled into her from the moment he took her in,  _No details, keep it vague, stick to the story_ , but so far it hadn't been an issue she'd had to deal with head-on, since the only people who spoke to her were the punks who hung out behind the gym (Kali would have called them  _wanna-bes_ ) and they seemed to prefer her mute and mysterious, so she hadn't had to answer any awkward questions. It hadn't occurred to her to be worried about the faculty, but she remembers the hungry looks on the police officer's faces the rare times she'd visited Hopper at the station, and she curses her own stupidity. "Yes," she says quietly, keeping her eyes on the floor. "I passed all my placement tests, though."

"Yes, of course," Gibbins says, and she can hear the eagerness in his voice now. "Who exactly was your tutor, however? Was there a parent Chief Hopper found you with, or - "

"Are my grades not up to standard?" Eleven interrupts. She lifts her eyes to meet his, channeling all of the frustration and injustice of the past three weeks into her glare, and his answer dies on his thin lips. She holds his gaze steadily, and he's the first to look away this time, ruddy cheeks flushed as he shuffles some papers on his desk in the long moment of silence. All at once, the anger burns out of Eleven, and she lets her knees fall open as she slumps forward, clasped hands sliding between her thighs as she slouches. "My classes are fine, and I'm not fighting any more," she mumbles.

"One week without a fight is not long enough to get you any leeway!" Gibbons says, finding his footing on the moral high ground once more. Eleven keeps staring at her knees, turning the word  _leeway_  over in her mind. "A lady shouldn't be fighting at all, come to that," he continues, and Eleven doesn't even bother hiding her eye roll. "But I can't know where you're coming from if you don't let me. Were you involved in a violent group in Chicago that might have made you think it was an appropriate reaction, like a g -"

"Am I free to go?" Eleven interrupts again. She keeps her eyes on her knees, but her voice is hard and her shoulders have straightened into the stance she takes to throw a punch. She's still exhausted, but she's endured far worse treatment in far worse physical and mental states. The phrase is Hopper's, and she hopes it reminds Gibbins of whatever stopped him from expelling her on her new guardian's insistence.

"You are not being held prisoner, young lady," Gibbins huffs. "I was merely trying to find a way to help you transition - "

"I'm fine," she says. "I will do my homework and detentions and keep my nose clean."  _Keep your nose clean_  is Hopper's favorite phrase, because of her nosebleeds, and although she rolls her eyes theatrically every time he uses it and chuckles to himself it seems as if it's creeped its way into her ever-expanding vocabulary. "I'm going to be late for Chemistry," she adds, and reaches down to her feet for her bag.

"Very well," Gibbins says, and the irritation is back in his voice. "But you are not going to be new to this school forever, and we expect you to meet the same high standards we hold for all students - "

"Yes sir," she says quickly, and swings her backpack over one shoulder as she hurries out of the room before he can lecture her for her rudeness.

She'll have to tell Hopper tonight about the principal digging into her backstory; she hadn't told him any details, but if anything she'd been more suspicious by refusing to acknowledge his questions, and she doubts he'll let her go that easily next time he tries to corner her. Anxiety gnaws away at her belly as harshly as her teeth gnaw her own lip, and she almost causes a pile-up of irate students in the hallway when her tongue darts out and tastes blood, only able to make her shaking legs move again when she swipes her finger under her nose and finds it clean.

\---

Even though she hasn't exactly got a lot of options to do otherwise, Eleven prides herself on how fast she's learning in this overwhelming new world. She's only been in school three weeks, but she already knows many unspoken truths, such as she shouldn't put her mouth on the water fountain, she should keep to the right side of the hallway if she doesn't want to get trampled, and she absolutely despises group projects.

She's only had to suffer through one in her three weeks of school; her World Geography teacher had announced "assigned partners" the second week of school, and she had stared around the room confusedly as the whole class had groaned in unison. Her confusion hadn't lasted long after she'd met her partner, a stocky boy who's name she had forgotten as soon as he'd said it, and they'd argued for the remainder of the class period over whether his extent of the work should be picking the country they would present to the class and nothing else. She was sure this was more an issue with the particular boy than the concept of group projects, but even once they'd finally started resentfully divying up responsibilities they were still tethered to each other, her essays incomplete until he'd researched details for his, his poster-board design unmapped until she could print out the blurbs of information so that he could see how much room he needed. Eleven had always worked alone, mostly by circumstance since no one else in the lab could do what Papa asked her to do and Kali's gang had been made up of loners banding together for survival, and, although Hopper had laughed and informed her everyone detested group projects, Eleven had felt like she was taking her first free breath for the second time only when they'd handed in their project and walked back to their separate desks. Whatever was  _too much_  about her seemed to keep the other students away enough to give her the space to get through the day, and although she sometimes sneaked glances at the clusters of students laughing or hugging each other and missed Kali so much her bones ached with it, she would never feel comfortable with someone else looking over her shoulder and telling her how to do her own work. She had, therefore, been part of the chorus of groans without hesitation this time when her Chemistry teacher had announced "assigned partners" and begun distributing worksheets down the rows of desks.

Her partner seems to feel the same way. The girl is very pretty, and hasn't said anything to Eleven since she reluctantly shuffled up to their workstation, so she may be one of the popular girls Eleven had challenged and unwittingly started a feud with her first few days of school. Eleven knows she recognizes her, but the past few weeks have been such an anxious blur that isn't sure how much resentment she should be feeling towards this girl. The only sound at their work station is the thumping of the equipment the girl is assembling less gently than Eleven would have preferred, eyes flickering everywhere except for Eleven like a caged animal, and Eleven swallows a sigh, eyes fluttering away from her partner's face to the watermarked notebook half-hanging off the corner of the desk.

"Maxine," she murmurs, curious eyes following the neat lettering marking the top of their worksheet.

"Max," her partner says abruptly. Eleven looks at her, but she's still stubbornly avoiding her eyes, cheeks burning as bright as her hair as she fiddles with the Bunsen burner. Her jaw works for a long moment, like she wishes she'd never spoken but knows she can't stop now, and she grounds out, "No one calls me Maxine."

Eleven nods; she understands having a name no one should use. "Max," she agrees, and the girl turns away from her abruptly, wild hair almost smacking Eleven in the face as she hurriedly reaches for the test strips and dips her head to sort through them meticuously. Eleven frowns, but pushes forward, mind flickering back to the stocky boy in her World Geography class, "Could you please pass the worksheet."

Max freezes for a moment, then relaxes her shoulders and passes Eleven their worksheet without looking at her. They work in silence for awhile, Eleven filling in the parts of the assignment she can, writing slowly so that she has an excuse to read each question several times to make sure she understands, and Max setting up the equipment much more quietly than before. When Eleven finally looks up from the worksheet the other girl is staring out the window, thumbs tapping the tabletop almost musically. The movement reminds her of Axe when he needs a cigarette, and she winces with the sudden wave of home-sickness and reminder of her own nicotine habit, neglected since lunch period because of her impromptu meeting with Gibbins. She reaches over Max silently to snatch the test papers off the desk, and the other girl jumps like Eleven's electrocuted her. Ignoring her, Eleven looks down at the worksheet and slides the safety goggles down over her eyes with her free hand. She'd been enamored with the idea of school since she'd escaped into the real world, and although the reality of the actual institution hadn't exactly lived up to her expectations, she still loves to soak up any new knowledge about the world around her that she could get her hands on. Chemistry was literally getting her hands on new knowledge about the world and watching it happen in front of her, and it would take more than one unfriendly lab partner to curb her enthusiasm for even such a basic experiment.

She may have judged her new partner too quickly, however; she's so focused on the chemical reaction happening in front of her that she doesn't notice Max sliding the worksheet away, but when she looks around for it in surprise Max is bent over the desk, scribbling in the too-small gap between the first two questions. Max doesn't look up at her, face still hidden by her curtain of fiery hair, but she says, "You like doing experiments?"

Max can't know how that question makes Eleven's stomach clench painfully, and Eleven takes a moment to flex her hands before she answers. Her fingers find the blue elastic around her wrist, but that only makes her want a cigarette. "Yes," she says, because she knows what Max is really asking, and the best part of exploring this new world is the fact that Papa and the bad men can't stop her.

"I hate them," Max confesses, smiling even as she keeps her eyes on the paper in front of her. "I'm not into all the little fussy details that can totally throw the results off. Too nit-picky for me. I'll fill out the results and you do the fussy part?"

"Okay," Eleven agrees, mostly because it's the most anyone at school has ever said to her, and it's a much more fair way of dividing the work, anyway. She doesn't know what made Max decide to start talking to her instead of hiding and frowning, but as she narrows her eyes and begins measuring the ingredients for the next step in the experiment she feels Max's eyes on her, and it feels like a victory. They murmur back and forth as they run through the steps of the assignment, mostly data readings and hums of affirmation, but it's comfortable, the atmosphere cleared with a few simple sentences, and Eleven realizes she didn't remember how much she wanted a cigarette until Max is turning the dial down on the Bunsen burner.

"Not too fussy?" she asks, tugging at the corner of the worksheet as Max scribbles almost illegibly the final results of their project. She's mostly teasing, but she knows what it's like to be on the losing end of a group project, and even though Max had offered she didn't want the other girl to feel like she'd been stuck with the part of the project no one else wanted to do. Besides, Max herself had said she wasn't very detail-oriented, and no matter how calm Eleven was feeling after working with her she didn't want to hand in a lab result summary with no lab results in it.

Max barks a laugh, sounding more surprised than amused, and passes her the paper. "You translated all the fuss, I just wrote it down," she says, and her bright blue eyes rise to Eleven's like a needle to a compass.

Eleven grins, picking up the paper but holding her eyes, and in a loud clatter the Bunsen burner's base is on the floor, metal prongs bouncing and rolling away from their work station as Max grips the edge of the table to steady herself after her stumble. Eleven's eyes widen, but Max is swearing and whirling around before she can react, ducking under the table to chase the errant equipment while the class turns and snickers around them. Eleven gives them her best scowl, meeting each pair of jeering eyes with her own until they look away first, and she's the only one looking at her partner when Max finally emerges from underneath the table, face glowing and eyes downcast once more.

"Jesus Christ, seriously," she mumbles, slamming the runaway base back onto the table, and Eleven isn't sure if she's supposed to answer or not.

"At least the flame was out," Eleven offers.

Max covers her face with her hands, and Eleven feels a flutter of worry in her stomach that she's said the wrong thing until Max's shoulders start shaking, hoarse laughter bursting, seemingly helplessly, from the redheaded girl. Eleven snickers too, and as the bell rings to signal the end of class they keep standing there, ignoring the students streaming past them towards the door, giggling like they'll never be able to stop.

The teacher reminds them, tersely, that the equipment needs to be returned to the back of the classroom, and Eleven and Max avoid eye contact on purpose now as they carry their bins to the sinks to stop the laughter from bubbling back up their throats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD for someone who doesn't talk much El sure has a lot to say  
> I'm on my gf's computer so I'll answer comments tomorrow, thank you guys so much!  
> (If you hate this new style blame my gf for making me post it after stressing over it for days, next chapter is back to Max!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof this is going to be SO much more than 10 chapters, guys, there's slow burn and then there's barely making eye contact for 4 chapters??? Us lesbians i s2g  
> Thank you for the kudos and comments!!! I don't get much time online and I'm going to have less time than I thought during the holidays, but I'll answer them as soon as I can! I'm thrilled you liked Jane/Eleven, I was so nervous about writing her! On that note, have some Max!

Snickering, Lucas hunches over the desk so closely his nose almost smudges the paper. “Mike is never going to believe these stats. You're gonna have to be my witness, so he doesn't make me roll again.”

Max taps her fingers, woven together over her stomach, against the back of her hands and says nothing. She's lying on her back on Lucas's bed, staring up at the ceiling fan whirring dully above them and only half-listening to Lucas's exclamations from across the room. She'd come over to his house after school to do homework, which meant him filling out his character sheet for the new Dungeon and Dragons campaign Mike was planning and her mocking him relentlessly while she ate his mother's cookies, but today she was silent, splayed out for the past half-hour without moving on top of his Star Wars throw blanket and letting the humming of the fan drown out the white noise in her mind.

Her first conversation with Jane Hopper, if you could even qualify it as that, had been a complete and morbidly humiliating disaster. Well, the conversation hadn't been – Jane, for being such a woman of few words that she'd punched more people in her first few weeks of school than she'd talked to, had a surprisingly good sense of humour, and Max had eventually managed to say some project-related things that had resembled words, but Max herself had been a disaster, dropping lab equipment, jumping like a frightened gazelle, getting so flustered hearing her name in that _voice_ that she'd shut down completely and ignored the other girl so thoroughly Jane had tried to do the whole experiment herself. The coolest girl she'd ever seen had been involved in the two lowest points of Max's school year so far, and her belly burns with the humiliation of it as she tries not to consider what Jane Hopper must think of her now. She'd never had a chance with her in the first place, not the one she truly wanted, but she feels physically sick knowing that Jane Hopper knows nothing more about her than that she was a tomboy loser who dropped everything she touched.

“I haven't written a backstory for a new character since we were kids - I wonder if Mike expects another novel,” Lucas muses. “I have no idea when Mike has the time to come up with a whole new thing, I don't even think I can write out more than a summary before Saturday. Although I can probably work on it during Dowler's lecture, he just reads out of the textbook.”

“Mmm,” Max hums noncommittedly.

That's even if Jane thinks of her at all. She hadn't given any indication that she'd remembered Max the whole time they'd worked together, and she'd called Max by the name Mrs. Parker had written on her worksheet, which not even teachers called her unless they were reading off the class list. Stomach sinking, Max stares at the blur of ceiling fan blades above her, half-wishing that one would fly off the speeding motor towards her. Either it would put her out of her embarrassing misery, or it would give her a cool scar on her face to give Jane Hopper something to remember her by.

Max would bet anything the cool, punk boyfriend Jane Hopper undoubtedly has back in Chicago has a cool scar on his face.

“The fruitbats unite the fridge fires at dawn,” Lucas says.

Max doesn't even have the energy to roll her eyes. “I'm listening, mouth-breather.”

“Then _you're_ being a mouth-breather and not answering.” Lucas spins around in his desk chair, and although Max doesn't take her eyes off the ceiling fan she knows his eyes are soft as they land on her. “What's up?”

Max shrugs. “Nothing as fascinating as creating exactly the same ranger character you did when you were eleven.”

She knows Lucas is really concerned about her when he doesn't go on the familiar hour-long rant about _just because it's a ranger doesn't mean it's the_ same _ranger, Max, you choose different abilities and stats matter,_ instead rolling his desk chair back and forth on the plastic mat beneath his desk. “Your shithead step-father still out of town?”

“Yeah,” she says, glancing over at him to show him the truth of it in her eyes. Just because she's wallowing in pathetic self-inflicted embarrassment doesn't mean she can make him worry about something as serious as her step-father. “Everything's cool at home. She won't admit it, but Mom's happier when he's gone too.” She raises her eyes back to the ceiling, worried his understanding brown eyes will coax the secrets she can never say out of her. “Just tired, I guess.”

“Yeah, all the work we've gotten so far senior year has been the deadly combo of boring and hard," Lucas complains, and despite herself her lips twitch into the beginning of a smile. “I thought senior year was supposed to be... I dunno, keg parties and meaningless sex.”

Max snorts at that. “Is that really what you were expecting, Lord of the Rangers?”

“That's not – rangers aren't nobles, don't act like you've never played D&D before -”

She's saved from cobbling up the energy to squabble by Lucas's door bursting open with a cry of, “Hand check!”

Not looking away from the ceiling fan, Max raises her hands off the bed and holds them in the air above her. She hears the rustle of fabric and subsequent squeal, and without looking she knows what gesture Lucas is using as he shows off his innocent hand locations.

“You're such a loser, Lucas!” Ericka shouts.

“You're the one still doing hand checks!” Lucas shoots back. “That got old, like, four years ago. Even Mom doesn't give a shit.”

“She will once I bust you,” Ericka says sweetly. “They were her idea, you know.”

“Yeah, _four years ago_ ,” Lucas stresses. “Go get a life so you get out of mine.”

“I've seen your life and you couldn't pay me to be in it,” Ericka says. “Have fun being as close to having a girl in your bed as you'll ever be, _nerd_.” She slams the door, the pictures on the walls rattling ominously with the force of it.

“Why is Mike's little sister so cute and mine is such a fucking monster?” Lucas groans.

“Wouldn't know,” Max says. “I grew up an only child.” She's not an only child any more, but neither of them say it.

The SuperCom crackles to life, and Dustin's distorted voice rings through the room. “Lucas! Come in, Lucas! It's important! Over!”

Max and Lucas's eyes meet before she finally rolls over, running one hand through her long, mussed tresses to push them out of her face as the other reaches for the radio. “What's important?”

There's a pause, and then Dustin's voice breaks through the fuzz again. “Max? Are you at Lucas's, or am I on the wrong channel? Also, are you done talking, so I can answer, over?”

Max and Lucas roll their eyes at each other; Lucas says, “Seriously?” before Max presses the button again, “I'm at Lucas's, but he's right here. Is something wrong? I'm done talking, like how you know I'm done in every other conversation, wastoid.”

“You can just say 'Over,'” Dustin says, and if she hadn't been worried something had actually happened she would have shoved the antenna down and left him to the radio static. “We have a code orange, I repeat, code orange. Over.”

Max looks over at Lucas, concerned; the boys had created their own color system for the severity of situations before she'd moved to Hawkins, and she'd never really bothered to learn it, since if anything drastic came up she could usually figure it out more from the screaming than the color they were using. Lucas shrugs but looks as worried as she feels; even if they had never used a 'code orange' before it didn't sound like a good sign.

Max sits up, swinging her legs over the side of Lucas's bed and leaning her elbows on her knees. “Dustin. Use your words. You have a lot of them. Over.”

“Someone deleted all your high scores on Dig Dug!” Dustin shrieks, apparently so flummoxed by this that he could ignore her verbal jabs.

Max raises her eyebrows, not sure she's heard him correctly. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Your high scores!” Dustin says. “Your reigning championship! Will and I were at the arcade and all the machines were reset; Most of them don't even have any scores on them at all. Keith says there was some kind of power surge and all the machines restarted. Ms. Pac-Man and Space Invaders even got fried. You have to come reclaim your top spot!”

Max blinks; she has so many questions, but one seems more pertinent than the others. “You guys have a code for my scores getting topped?” she says, looking at Lucas.

Lucas grins, but it's Dustin who answers. “When you first got here you were kicking my ass at all my best games, so I made Mike come up with a code for when I had to go back to the arcade and defend my honor. We never really had to use it, since we befriended you and therefore support your mastery of video games. But now you're being challenged by an outside force! You have to come and put your name back in lights!”

Max takes her finger off the button, cocking her head at Lucas. “What do you think?”

Lucas shrugs. “Beats actually starting our homework.”

Max flashes him a grin and presses the button again. “Fine, we're on our way, but we have to swing by my place to get quarters. How far away from the arcade are you guys?”

“We're at my place, so we can be there in fifteen,” Dustin says. “Since you guys are going to long way, stop by the store and get us some snacks, we'll be there awhile. Over and out.” The SuperCom crackles with his disconnection.

Max looks over at Lucas again, standing to put the SuperCom back on the beside table. “You know we're way cooler than all of our friends, right?”

Lucas laughs, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “I know.”

\---

“I don't think we can smuggle them in,” Lucas says, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Max sighs, shoving the family-sized Cheetos back onto the display. “But the smaller ones are, like, a mouthful,” she grumbles.

“If you leave your books in the car you could put them in your backpack, and just open it when Keith's not looking,” Lucas suggests with a calculating tilt of his head. “It would stop them getting crushed, too.”

Max reaches up to give him a noogie. “This is why you're the strategist of the party, Ranger.”

Lucas laughs, pushing her off. “So I'm a strategic Ranger instead of a loser when I get you your Cheetos, am I? Go get the Three Musketeers bars, we'll never hear the end of it if we don't bring Dustin any.”

Max salutes him, turning on her heel and wandering down the isle with her small mountain of junk food. She's reading the signs hanging over the shelves, wondering which isle Three Musketeers bars would be in, and she doesn't really pay attention when a deep, rumbling voice she vaguely knows grumbles behind her, “Anything else you can think of that we need, kid?”

She does, however, recognize the voice which answers, soft but with too much gravity for the question she's answering, “Eggos.”

Max doesn't drop all of her food, but it's a close thing. She stumbles, packages of Gobstoppers tumbling around her feet as she squishes her family-sized Cheetos to her chest out of instinct. Face flaming, she hides behind the curtain of her hair as she bends over to pick up her fallen packages. She's just cursing herself for thinking earlier that she couldn't have made a bigger fool of herself in front of Jane Hopper – she just had to tempt the universe like this – when Chief Hopper's wheezing laugh sounds behind her and she almost drops her candy again.

“You think you're getting Eggos when you've been in more fights at school than I have at work this month?” Hopper's voice says incredulously. He doesn't sound like he's behind her any more, and Max looks around to find her isle empty. Allowing herself a breath of relief, she steadies her parcels in her arms and steps closer to the shelves it sounds like the Hoppers are on the other side of, shameless now that she knows Jane Hopper can't see her.

The other girl doesn't say anything else, but Max tries to imagine what expression she's making that makes Hopper snort like that. “No way, kid. Eggos are a sometimes food. You've got to start eating a vegetable once in awhile.”

“Like you?” Jane challenges, and Max grins, a little bit light-headed as she tries to contain a hysterical giggle when her lips refuse to close.

“I'm not in detention until I'm fourty,” Hopper snaps. Jane is silent, and there's a long pause before Chief Hopper sighs and continues, softer, “Look, that's my point. We're both adjusting, and we're both not doing a great job. So we're going to buckle down, make better choices, eat a vegetable. And we'll earn Eggos back when we do. For sometimes.”

There's another pause, but a thoughtful one, like she's considering, and then Jane says, as serious as if she's considering selling her soul, “No peas?”

Chief Hopper chuckles. “No peas. Something else green, though. One of us is going to learn how to cook. Do they still teach that in school?”

“No. Not in my classes. Which class would it be?” They're moving down the isle, their voices approaching the corner of the shelf closest to Max. She freezes, feeling strangely guilty clutching her junk food, like they're about to catch her stealing, even though she's going to meet up with Lucas to pay.

“It's its own class,” Chief Hopper is saying. “Don't worry about it kid. You'll be eating a triple-decker Eggo extravaganza in no time.”

Max has what she's sure in retrospect is a weird, frozen smile on her face when they round the corner, because she's too slow in transitioning from wondering what a triple-decker Eggo extravaganza is to realizing they're about to walk past. The Chief shuffles past without looking at her, pushing the rattling shopping cart in front of him, but Jane Hopper seems to feel Max's deer-in-headlights gaze and glances over, tractor-beam eyes finding Max's as she trails after her adoptive father, hands shoved in the pockets of her leather jacket. She doesn't slow her steps, but she smiles, a small twitch of one side of her mouth, and she lifts one hand in greeting as she says, softly, “Hi, Max,” before she's around the corner and out of Max's line of sight.

Max is certain Jane's eyes truly have alien tractor-beam powers, because nothing else could have kept her junk food in her arms until Jane was gone. They go tumbling from her grasp again, all of them this time, and she doesn't even try to catch them, staring at the empty space Jane Hopper had just occupied. Jane Hopper, who remembers her name. Jane Hopper, who had watched her have a meltdown and throw lab equipment onto the ground like a complete wastoid and still greeted her with a smile. Jane Hopper, who fought bullies for kids she didn't even talk to and got what was presumably her favorite breakfast taken away and was lectured for her troubles, who wore leather jackets and scary punk make-up and took the time to make Max laugh when she'd just embarrassed herself and was visually upset about it, who was having trouble adjusting to Hawkins and was whispered about and judged by kids and adults alike but was willing to eat her vegetables and give it a try anyway. Jane Hopper had smiled at her, and Max doesn't think she'll ever be able to stop smiling now, standing in the grocery store surrounded by crushed junk food. She hears Lucas calling for her, irritated, but nothing can break through this spell, and she weaves her fingers into the hair at her temples, grinning as her hands shake against her skull, more intoxicated than she's been after any drink.

A shiver runs through her body, and she wonders if brilliant strategist Lucas can figure out a way for them to sneak Eggos into the arcade.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays to the elmax fandom!!! More useless lesbians coming soon!!!!!!!


	5. Chapter 5

October rolls in with thick fog and cold mornings. Max doesn't think she'll ever really get used to this, the visual passage of time through seasons so different they shouldn't be taking place in the same part of the world, let alone the same town, but fog reminds her of the ocean and she can't find it in herself to complain like the boys do as her car crawls through the thick cloud, headlights swirling like lighting in a horror movie and fading less than a foot in front of them.

That doesn't mean she'll let them get away with it, of course. "You know I'm the one who has to drive you whiny nerds in this weather, right? What are you even complaining about?"

"We're the ones who are gonna die because you can't see two inches in front of you," Dustin complains from the backseat.

"If you're packing two inches maybe the fog isn't her problem," Lucas fires back from beside her immediately, and Dustin leans forward to punch him in the shoulder as the rest of the car laughs. Max catches Lucas's eye and grins, taking one hand off the wheel for a fist bump, and Lucas blows it up with a static-y sound from the back of his throat.

"That's going to be us if you don't stop abusing me and watch the road," Dustin says miserably.

"Calm down, wastoid," Max says, sliding her arm around the back of the passenger's headrest just to annoy him. "Has your zoomer ever let you down before?"

"You almost killed us like, a hundred times before you even got your license," Dustin points out.

"But I didn't," Max says with a grin. "See? Quality zoomer."

"A zoomer's still not a real thing," says Mike. "Speaking of, did you guys finish your character sheets yet?"

"No one's had time, Mike," Lucas says. "We're all still trying to find time for admission essays on top of our actual graded work. Plus basketball try-outs are this week, so I'm not going to be home after school."

Dustin jumps in to complain about being forced to take arts courses which end up being all essays when he's already dedicated his life to the pursuit of scientific discovery, but Mike is strangely quiet. Max glances at him in the rear-view mirror as Lucas and Dustin predictably fall into bickering; he's looking out the window, eyes too unfocused to be watching the passing fog, and his mouth is pulled down into a frown. Max knows what he's thinking; they're in their last year of high school, only a year left before they go away to separate colleges and start their separate, adult lives, and he wanted this campaign to be their one last hurrah as the party while they were still together. They weren't quite the ride-or-die group they'd been when Max had met them at the emotional age of thirteen, growing up inevitably drifting them in different directions due to new interests and more schoolwork, but they were still the best friends Max had ever had and she wasn't quite ready to let go of that, either. Mike feels her eyes on him in the mirror and looks up, and when she smiles at him he returns it.

She pulls into the parking lot, lining her car up with the station wagon next to her and praying they were able to see the lines better than she is, and they all pile out of the car. Will is waiting for them by the doors; they live so far apart that she would have to drive past the school to pick him up, so he takes the bus to school and she drives him home. She misses his quiet humor in the mornings, especially surrounded by the boisterous, argumentative morning people currently quarreling behind her about whether something is an analogy or an allegory, and she jogs up to him and throws an arm around his shoulders, steering him into the school before the other boys catch up to them. "Morning, Will, my favorite, least stinky friend, how are you this morning?"

Will glances behind them, looking unsure as she steers him away from their friends. "Shouldn't we wait for everyone else?"

"Lucas and Dustin are talking grammar, they'll be there for awhile," she says with a wave of the arm not holding him captive, and he nods with understanding. "Besides, I never catch you without Mike - how are those illustrations coming?"

Will lights up. They had reached the end of their adventures with their old Dungeons and Dragons characters the summer before their junior year, each getting a tragic Lord of the Rings-style retirement story after the last campaign which had felt almost as long as the actual story to Max, and the boys were still missing the characters they had spent years lovingly cultivating and leveling up. Will was creating a page to immortalize each of their characters, drawing a portrait of them in a heroic pose and writing a blurb about their adventures as if describing an ancient myth. He wanted to combine them into a tome to be used in their new game, their old characters becoming legends to their new characters, and he swung back and forth between unbridled excitement at sharing his creative idea and talents with his friends, and worry that it wouldn't match Mike's new campaign idea and no one would want to use it. He'd confided in Max, probably because she'd usually had fun dreaming up new, ridiculous characters for each quest and then gotten bored when she actually started playing so she wasn't terribly attached to her characters or in-game continuity, and, although she loved nothing more than teasing her best friends about how intense they were about their games and books, she knew they would all adore Will's idea, and told him so at every opportunity. Unfortunately, she didn't have many opportunities, since it was a surprise for the rest of their friends and they couldn't talk about it around the rest of the party, so Will has a lot to tell her as they wade their way through the thinning crowd of students in the hallway towards their lockers.

He's waving his hands, painting a picture in the air in front of them for her, when the warning bell rings, startling them both. They take in the rapidly-emptying hallway around them, exchange a look, and take off running without a word, sneakers squeaking against the glossy floor as they barely slow down to round the corner. Max's heart is pounding; her first period teacher, Mr. Wiskowski, has been looking for a reason to give her detention since junior year when he couldn't prove the scuff marks outside of his office were from her skateboard, and so far she had very carefully never given him one, but being one minute late to first period would undoubtedly break her record. She's about to pant a good-bye to Will, planning on taking her bag to class to cut down on travel time, when he grabs her arm, looking away from her down the hallway. She starts to tug it away, but then she hears it, too: a rapid, muffled banging from the opposite end of the hallway. She knows what it is immediately, and she closes her eyes for a moment, sinking back onto her heels from the balls of her feet in resignation.

When she opens her eyes again, Will's large, sympathetic ones are looking over his shoulder at her. "I could take this," he offers, smiling just a little bit. "I've been on the other end enough times."

Max gives him an  _are-you-kidding-me-right-now_  look and stomps past him silently, holding her head high as the final bell sounds through the empty hall.

They call out, each taking a side of the hallway as they search for the occupied locker. Max fumes as she stomps past the row of lockers on her side. She's saved each of her friends from this exact situation more than once over the years, the cliche apparently too good for mouth-breathers like Troy not to repeat, but, although the bullying had continued relentlessly, nothing like this had happened to any of them, or indeed anyone she's heard of in years, and she'd thought that this particular brand of traumatizing kids had gone out of style. All bullying hurt, but being trapped, forced into solitary confinement and having no idea how long you would be abandoned there, and the added humiliation of knowing that if you tell, if you cry, it will happen to you again, made this something Max had been very glad to leave behind them, and she calls perhaps a bit more aggressively than necessary as she tries to follow the voice begging from behind one of the metal doors for them to find him.

“Right here!” He cries. His voice cracks, and Max feels a fresh wave of horror as she wonders how old this kid is. Could whatever asshole did this have kidnapped a kid from the middle school next door? She whirls around, hair whipping around her face and obscuring the vision, but the locker next to her shakes violently and she pounces, pressing her palms against the door and feeling it vibrate.

“Will!” she shouts, scrabbling for the lock. “Okay, we're going to get you out. Is it your locker? What's the combination?”

Thankfully it is his locker; Troy and his cronies had gone through a phase where they'd tried to keep kids trapped in lockers they didn't know the combination to, so that the lock had to be cut and the most amount of people had to witness it, but this had died down pretty quickly when they'd realized that they had to use their own lockers, or they had no way to open them in the first place, and using their own lockers made it obvious even to the incompetent faculty who had locked the student up in the first place. Max spins the needle and opens the lock easily, and both she and Will step forward to catch the kid as he tumbles out of the locker.

“Thank you,” he says, voice wavering. His floppy brown hair is sweaty and tangled, like he's been pulling at it, and his chubby cheeks are streaked with tears. Thankfully he's old enough to be a high school student, judging from the ninth grade biology textbook he's still clutching, although not by much, and it occurs to Max that her friends might have stopped getting stuffed in lockers simply because they'd grown too big. “I thought I was going to die in there.”

“It feels like that, but it would never happen,” Will says kindly. “I'm Will, and this is Max. We're going to walk you down to the principal's office, okay?”

“What? No!” the kid cries, and Max closes her eyes. “No way, they'll definitely kill me if I report them!”

“They'll do it again if you don't,” Max snaps. She can feel Will's eyes on hers, but she keeps staring the kid down. “You're not the first, and you won't be the last.”

“I don't care about that,” the kid cries. “I want to get through the week without getting the shit beat out of me!”

“Then actually get them in trouble for once,” Max says loudly.

“Hey, I know how scary it is – What's your name?” Will turns the kid around by the shoulders, shooting Max a reproving look. She rolls her eyes but keeps her mouth shut; Will has always been much better at this kind of stuff than she has. “It used to happen to me all the time, too. I know what you're up against, but you're not alone. Could you tell me your name?”

“What are you guys, undercover teachers?” The kid backs away from them, holding up his biology textbook like a shield. “Look, thanks for getting me out, but leave me alone, okay?” He turns around and runs down the hall away from them, not even glancing back once.

Will sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. They look at each other silently for a long moment.

“That was kind of teacher-y,” Max says.

Will rolls his eyes at her. He pads over to pick up the lock, shutting the door with a soft pop and locking it with one hand. “I hate that this is still happening,” he says quietly.

“It's always going to be happening, Will.” She puts her hand on his shoulder, even though her words aren't very comforting. “Would you have taken help?”

Will turns and smiles ruefully at her. “You guys are my help.”

“And see how much good  _that_  does?” Max says, to cover up the rush of warmth in her cheeks.

Will smiles and punches her shoulder lightly; it's more of a pantomime of a swing, like he's imitating a move he's only seen in movies. Max grins and locks an arm around his neck, dragging him along with her as she starts to walk back down the hall. “Remind me to teach you how to throw a punch later.”

“That would also have been helpful, yes.” He struggles in her grip, and her laugh is genuine as she pulls him a couple more steps and then finally releases him. She squeezes his arm as he falls into step beside her, and he smiles at her. “Sorry you're going to be in detention for the rest of your life.”

“Me, too,” she sighs. She rolls her head back on her shoulders, staring up at the ceiling as they walk. "Want to go big and skip first period completely?"

Will laughs. "Nah. Ms. Jordan likes me, she'll understand when I tell her what happened. Plus we have a test next week and she's handing out study guides today."

Max groans dramatically. "Fine, Mr. Responsible. Let me rot in detention by myself."

"You won't be by yourself," Will says carefully. He's looking down at his shoes, and doesn't meet Max's gaze when she glances at him curiously. "Jane Hopper's still doing her time after school every day."

Max's stomach swoops so suddenly she almost loses her balance. She looks at him sharply, but he's still looking at his feet. "So?"

Will shrugs. "So you won't be alone. You kind of know her, right?"

"Not enough to know when she has detention," Max, who knows exactly how many band t-shirts Jane Hopper owns, which periods Jane Hopper has sneaked away for a smoke by the freshness of her lipstick, and exactly when to lurk by the front doors so that she gets a glimpse of Jane Hopper walking to detention, says. She laughs, and tries not to wince outwardly at how forced it sounds. She feels guilty and cornered, like Will is accusing her of something, and her voice is more defensive than she means it to be when she continues, "Sounds like you know her detention schedule more than I do."

Will smiles indulgently at his sneakers. "Okay." They walk in silence for a few minutes, Max filled with jittery energy like she's waiting for a fight even though Will is calm beside her, until they come to the hall doorway separating their classes and Will raises his eyes to hers. "See you at lunch," he says, and the understanding in his gaze makes her scowls reflectively.

"Sure, weirdo," she mutters. She turns on her heel and stalks away, wincing when she jumps at the bang of the doorway closing behind him. Briefly, she considers going out to her car and waiting out the rest of the period  by listening to the radio and feeling sorry for herself, but she sighs and turns towards her classroom, trying to convince herself that the anxiety in her belly is because of the vindictive teacher waiting on the other side of the door.

\---

Jane Hopper is the only other person in detention.

Both she and the monitor, a middle-aged man with a 70s pornstar mustache Max has never had a class with before, turn to look at Max when she walks into the classroom. Max pauses awkwardly, fingers of one hand gripping the strap of her backpack as she very aggressively does not look at the other student, but the teacher speaks first. "Maxine Mayfield?"

"It's just Max," Max mumbles, weirdly embarrassed that this teacher would call her by her full name even though she's never met him before.

"You're late," he snaps. "This seems to be a running theme with you. Have a seat, no drawing on the desks, no walk-mans, no talking."

Max raises her eyebrows at the instructions which seem to imply she's never been in a classroom before, but she turns to the rows of desks without a word. Jane is sitting in the back corner near the window, and Max has a brief, unnecessary internal struggle deciding how far away to sit from her to not seem like she's thinking about it too hard before the teacher clears his throat and she throws herself into the first seat she walks by, near the back on the opposite side of the room from Jane. He glares at Max for another long moment before looking down at the papers he's grading on his desk, and the room falls into silence.

Max pulls out her notebooks but doesn't open them, wiggling a pen back and forth between her pointer and middle fingers to work off some of her nervous energy. She's had all day to work herself into a frenzy about this detention, and it's all Will's fault, because she sees Jane twice a day in classes and there's no reason why them being in the detention classroom instead of the gym or lab would be any different. She hadn't been lying to Will; aside from when Jane had been forced to work with her they have never really spoken, and although Jane seems to recognize her now, giving her a little smile whenever she catches Max staring at her creepily from across the room, they aren't exactly friends. This probably safest, both physically since Max turns into a walking hazard whenever Jane makes eye contact with her, and because everything she finds out about Jane makes Max like her more, and someone as cool and brave as Jane doesn't need to be exposed to the  _thing_  in Max's guts that makes her ears ring just knowing the punk girl is in the same room. Still, Max can't help but glance at the other girl out of the corner of her eye, the familiar warning of  _danger_  swelling in her chest even as she settles back in her chair for a better vantage point.

Jane is slouching in her chair, eyebrows furrowed as she reads from one of the books strewn across her desk. Her hair is spiked up today, short strands pulled seemingly haphazardly in different directions and drooping a bit from lack of maintenance throughout the day, and it almost glows with the late afternoon light behind it, sun filtering golden brown through the thin tips of the spikes. It's always a bit difficult to look straight at Jane, like looking directly into the sun, and Max feels the burn of the other girl's presence on her cheeks and nose, hot enough to blister, from across the room. Despite her posture, carelessly leaning back on her chair with one knee bent rebelliously in front of her chest so that her heel is balanced on the seat, her dark eyes rove across the pages strewn in front of her, her frowning lips half-forming the words as she reads from her textbook. Dizzy, Max's eyes drop to the textbook curiously and sees a familiar orange worksheet poking out from beneath the cover, and she must still be dazzled by Jane's light, the same dazed feeling she used to get when the sunlight on the water would disorient her and knock her off her surfboard when she was a child taking over long enough for her blurt out, "Is that our chemistry homework?"

Jane looks up at her, jumping a bit at the interruption. She glances around as if to look for who Max is talking to, even though she's the only other student in the room, before frowning at Max and saying, "Yes."

"The answers to 2a-e aren't in the chapter," Max says. She's not sure what she was planning to say in the first place, but now that she's talking and Jane's tractor-beam eyes are on her she can't seem to stop. "I heard the teacher telling Richie when he asked for help that he had to read the whole unit, not stop after every chapter, even though she's going to give out new questions every chapter."

"What?" Jane's eyebrows knit together at the injustice of this, scowling. "That's dumb."

"Yeah," Max says, trying not to smile dopily at her scowl. Please stop talking now, she begs herself internally. "Science cannot be contained and separated, for each new bud of knowledge you will find countless roots you must first explore to understand it," she intones instead, imitating their pretentious teacher, and the dopey grin escapes this time when Jane covers her mouth with one hand and snickers.

"Hey," the monitor snaps from the front of the room, startling them both. "No talking."

"We're doing homework," Max shoots back, because apparently she's drunk enough on Jane's laugh that she forgets she doesn't  _actually_  want to be stuck in detention for the rest of her life. Somehow she'd gotten away with only the one day of punishment, the most Mr. Wiskowski could scrounge up with her mostly-spotless record, and she tries to remind herself of why she had been so relieved by this before she'd had Jane's eyes on her.

The monitor gives her a sardonic look. "That's not what homework looks like."

"We have the same class," Jane says. Max tries not to look too surprised, glancing at the other girl out of the corner of her eye as she juts out her chin in defiance. "Same homework." She holds up her orange worksheet and shakes it, almost sarcastically, and Max doesn't quite cover up her grin before the monitor snaps his gaze back to her.

Max scrambles to pull her worksheet out of her own watermarked notebook, holding it up by her shoulder with her eyebrows raised. The teacher rises from his chair and sweeps over, snatching the paper from Max's hands and scanning it with a frown. He does the same  to Jane's paper, face hardening the more he reads, and Max swallows her laughter when he throws the paper back onto Jane's desk. "Perhaps, but considering you were sitting across the room from each other I would assume you were working independently," he snaps.

Jane catches her eye and tilts her head slightly towards the window. It takes Max a beat too long to realize what she means, but she's on her feet with her notebooks clutched to her chest before she can think better of it. She meets the monitor's eyes as she walks across the room towards Jane, his anger significantly less terrifying than the prospect of sitting next to the other girl. "Good point," she says, and throws her things messily down onto the desk next to Jane and takes her seat.

Jane leans forward, pushing her worksheet closer to Max and flipping through her textbook like she doesn't feel the teacher's eyes on her. Max forgets what she was doing, burning up in Jane's orbit, until the teacher huffs behind her, and she almost ruins their little charade when she jumps guiltily. "I will be checking your sheets to make sure they are completed," he says irritably, and marches back to the front of the class.

Max grins at Jane, and is proud she only flubs some loose pages in her notebook when Jane grins back at her. "You've got balls of steel, Hopper," she says without thinking, and blushes furiously when Jane laughs outright.

"He deserves it," Jane replies quietly, glancing over at the teacher with a frown as she turns a page in the textbook. "He almost always watches over detention, and he's always a - a -" she glances at Max furtively, as if unsure how strong of a word to use in front of her.

"A fuckwad?" Max offers, and Jane has to cover her mouth with her hand again to muffle her laughter. Her eyes are sparkling with mirth over her fingerless gloves at Max, and Max realizes a moment too late that the swooping in her stomach is not from hormones, but from her elbow sliding off the edge of the desk and throwing off her balance. Jane's still sniggering when she's righted herself, gloved hand now rubbing the back of her graceful neck as she smirks at Max, and Max thinks dizzily it might be a bit of hormones after all.

"Fuckwad," Jane repeats, nodding slowly as if she's committing the word to memory. "Yes."

"Well, hopefully he'll leave you alone from now on," Max says, looking down at her chaotic pile of notebooks to give herself a moment to recover. "Um, full disclosure, I haven't actually started this worksheet yet, so I don't know how much help I'll be."

"You already helped," Jane points out, and Max is grateful she'd had the foresight to look down so that she isn't hit with the full force of Jane's smile. "Do you know where the reaction kinetics answers are?"

"Yeah, I wrote down what she told Richie, hang on." Max flips through her notebook, hiding her blush with her loose hair as she shoves loose papers and sticky notes haphazardly between pages. For being the living embodiment of punk Jane has surprisingly neat binders and organized notes, and Max is suddenly very aware of her stained, ratty notebooks and messy filing system. Like she needs something else to be embarrassed by in front of Jane, or something else to find weirdly endearing about Jane for that matter, she thinks  irritably as she watches the brunette pull the lid off of a green highlighter and carefully draw over a line of notes.

"Here." She slides her notebook closer to Jane, tapping the end of her pen against the scribbles in the corner of the page. "She didn't give the answers, obviously, but we know where to look, at least. Are you done 8a-g? I have no idea which diagram she's talking about."

"Page 354," Jane says absently, reading Max's messy scrawl as she thumbs through her textbook. “It's the celluloid one, you just copy out of the textbook.”

“My favorite kind,” Max says, smiling behind her curtain of hair when Jane snickers at her joke. “I don't get that, why do we get graded on how well we can just re-write what's right in front of us?”

“Memorizing,” Jane says with a shrug. “Copying helps me remember, anyway. That's why I like biology better, it's more memorizing and repeating.”

“That's a good point, and probably why I hate biology,” Max says. Every time she makes Jane laugh she feels like she's floating, weightless and giddy with no idea which direction was up or down, and with how many times she's somehow managed to convince Jane she was funny she's starting to wonder if she'll ever be able to come back down. Talking to Jane was dangerously easy, because Jane was even more interesting and hilarious and smart and tough than Max had built her up in her head to be from what little information she'd managed to gleam, and when her brain shut down from how much  _more_  the girl of her literal dreams was, her mouth took off without it. She's vaguely aware that she's going to be catatonic with embarrassment when she's out from under Jane's spell and can actually think about what she's said and done, but for right now, watching Jane grin out of the corner of her eye, the other girl running her thumb over her lips as if to try to wipe away her smile as she glances covertly at the monitor, Max thinks to herself that any embarrassment might be worth this.

“Here!” Jane says triumphantly, dropping the book onto her desk with a thunk which shakes Max out of her starry-eyed daze. Max curses the god who gave her translucently-pale skin that blushes from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes and ducks her head, trying to peer over at Jane's desk without turning her flaming face too much. “I think this is what question 2 is talking about.”

Max pulls a lock of hair in front of her nose with her pointer finger and thumb as she speed-reads the passage, hoping the brightness of her hair makes her blush look less obvious. “Yeah, that looks right. Good call. Wait, didn't 'b' say there were five stages?”

They make their way down the worksheet, passing one textbook back and forth and bouncing ideas off each other until they agreed on the correct answer. Max was having so much fun she had forgotten they were in detention until the monitor swoops down on them, snatching up Max's paper like the hand of God and running his eyes down her answers beadily. He looks disappointed as he reads their work, but he still has a frown for them as he throws Max's paper back at her, saying, “You didn't finish the whole thing.”

Max looks up at him incredulously. “We have a week to do this. We just finished most of it in -” she glances at the clock. Had it really been an hour?

Jane stands up next to her, shrugging her leather jacket on nonchalantly. “We're done for the day,” she says with finality.

Max grins at the monitor and stand, too, starting to gather her things. Their time in detention really is up, but she's hoping to get out of the classroom without Jane's attitude, as hilarious and dangerously appealing as it is, earning her another one. She zips up her sweater and swings her bag over her shoulder, saluting the monitor with two fingers. “See you,” she says, and she and Jane walk out the door without another word.

They smile at each other as they turn to head down the hall the same way, a bit shyly considering their earlier comroderie. Max is still pulled in by Jane's gravity, desperate to be as near to her as they were in the classroom, but now that they don't have a teacher to unite against or homework to discuss she can't think of a single thing to say to keep Jane's attention. She's frantically searching her traitor brain, as thick with fog in Jane's presence as the day outside, when Jane says, out of the blue. “What did you get detention for?”

Max looks over at her; her eyes are curious, but there's no judgment in her tone, no implication that Max getting detention is unheard of because she's a giant nerd who only hangs out with other giant nerds, even though this is true. “Wiskowski has it in for me,” she says, but suddenly she wants Jane to know the real reason she got detention, needs Jane to understand she's a fighter and she knows what's going on at this school, too, and she rushes on, “Some kid got shoved in a locker and I was late to class because I had to get him out, and Wiskowski gave me detention for it.”

Jane scowls, suddenly terrifying, and Max wonders what is wrong with her when her knees weaken. “You got detention for saving someone from a locker?”

Max shrugs, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Well, technically I got detention because I was late, but yeah, he seemed to think I should have left the kid locked in there and come to class on time. Priorities, I guess.”

Jane's jaw clenches, and her hands curl into fists as she turns her searing glare down the hallway. The lights flicker above them, and as Max glances upwards she wonders if she imagined the look of worry that she sees pass across Jane's face. When she looks back at the other girl she's glaring again, somehow making wiping her nose on the black handkerchief wrapped around her wrist look attractive, and Max is sufficiently distracted.

“This school,” Jane says, voice low and dangerous, and even though she doesn't continue the thought Max nods dazedly. “My detentions are because of bullies, too.”

“I know,” Max admits. “Well, I heard some stuff. Was Troy coming after you?”

Jane snorts. “Like he would try,” she mutters, and Max feels the electricity of her prickle across her skin. “He knocked a smaller boy's tray down. So I knocked him down.”

Max can't help it; she laughs. “That's so awesome,” she says without thinking.

Jane glances over at her, and a little smile is tugging up the corner of her lips. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I do,” Max smiles. From Jane's hesitant but pleased expression it occurs to Max that Jane may only have had heard from people like the principal and Hopper, so she ploughs on, “It's really cool, how you stick up for people and don't take shit. A lot of people think so. Well, the ones who aren't assholes, anyway.”

Jane grins at her, eyes wide and bright, and Max walks right into the front door.

The doors have a push-handle, so she keeps going, but her whole body is blushing again as she stumbles through the entryway. Wishing with everything she was that a gateway to hell would open beneath her feet and put her out of her misery, she grips the bar on the door and pushes it wider as she walks out of the building, holding the door like she'd meant to go through and then keep it open for Jane the whole time. Jane walks though and thanks her quietly, mercifully saying nothing about her obvious moment of incompetence, and Max is saved from trying to think of something to say to cover up her mental breakdown when a cheer rings out from the parking lot.

Max whirls around and starts, so genuinely surprised that she forgets about her humiliation for a moment. “What are you losers still doing here?”

Dustin, leaning against the side of her car, raises his hands in apparent exasperation. “You drove us here.”

Max stares. “None of you had a goddamn quarter to call literally anyone else for a ride?”

Lucas grins at her, arms folded behind his head like he's sunbathing at the beach. “We figured you would need some serious  _us_  time after the tortures of detention.”

“I want to  _end_  the torture, not keep it going,” Max fires back. Jane snickers behind her, and she can't help the warmth which blooms in her chest at the sound.

“Hi, Jane,” Mike calls hopefully. He waves a little bit, then seems to think better of it and leans back against the car abruptly.

“Hi, Mike,” Jane answers, a smile in her voice. Max clenches her teeth, hoping the eyeroll and sigh can be excused away by her interaction with the boys.

The police cruiser pulls up, stopping in the drop-off circle instead of on the lawn this time, and it's Jane's turn to sigh. Max raises her eyebrows at the other girl as she passes. “Police chief won't spring for a non-city car?”

Jane makes a face at her. “Hop won't let me get my drivers license. I think he thinks I'll take off back to Chicago if I can.”

“Now that's an idea -” Max pauses, a grin spreading slowly over her face. “You call him  _Hop?_ ”

Jane smirks at her, but doesn't get the chance to answer, or see Max's eyes glaze over, because Chief Hopper rolls down the window and yells, “Thirty seconds and I turn on the sirens, kid!”

“Forty seconds and you're explaining misusing your police shit to Flo again!” Jane snaps back. She turns and smiles at Max, who has undoubtedly the most unflattering expression on her face as she tries not to laugh. “See you, Max,” Jane says softly, and then she's bounding down the school steps towards the police cruiser.

Max watches her go, a dazed smile on her face, until an unholy wail comes from behind her. She whirls around to see Dustin groaning, head lolled back onto the top of the car dramatically. “I'm starving, let's gooooo already!”

“You're always starving,” Mike says, but there's no bite in it, and he's watching the Hoppers's car turn a corner away from them. Max frowns reflectively, but the annoyance doesn't seem to stick this time as she jumps down the steps three at a time and marches towards them. The giddy feeling is still ballooning in her stomach, and she finds herself grinning at her friends as she bounds towards them, pulling her keys from her jacket.

“What do you say to the arcade, heroes?” she says, swinging her keys around her pointer finger. “I need to blow off some detention steam.”

“I don't have any quarters,” Will says apologetically.

“I just got Donkey Kong for my new system,” Mike offers.

“Ugh, whatever, as long as we get something to eat first,” Dustin groans. “Your stupid detention took forever and I've been wasting away out here for  _years_.”

“Don't look at me, I didn't as you losers to wait for me,” Max says, swinging herself into the car. The purr of the engine beneath her, usually enough to get her heart pumping immediately, is nothing compared to the rush already pulsing through her body, and when she catches Will's knowing smile in the rear-view mirror as their friends bicker around them, this time she can't help but smile back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw a photoshoot of Millie Bobbie Brown with a badass punk look and spiked hair, so if you know which one I'm talking about that's what she did with her hair this chapter. I can't find it with a quick Google search, but hopefully you all come across it at some point because it's. Quality.  
> Oof I missed writing Constellations over Christmas!!! My seasonal fics took so long mostly because my brain only wanted to plan for future Constellations chapters as;jklshlaglh. Next chapter shouldn't take so long!  
> Thank you so much for every kudos and comment, and happy 2018!!!


	6. Chapter 6

Despite her friendly smile, Debbie Palmer's foot, balanced on the bench next to Max, is clearly strategically placed to prevent escape. “So, Lucas,” she says, faux-casual, examining her Easter-egg purple nails. “Is he going out for anything this year besides baseball?”

“He'd probably be the best person to answer that,” Max mutters, eyes darting around distractedly. Both relieved and embarrassingly disappointed when she scans the change-room and finds a familiar leather jacket peeking out from a backpack on the opposite bench, she yanks her gym shirt over her head and pulls her long braid out of the collar, hoping this is enough to indicate the end of the conversation with the blonde in front of her.

Apparently not. “Yeah, but you guys are like, best friends,” she giggles, emphasizing  _best friends_  like she's a bit embarrassed for Max about it. “So you know what he's doing... What he's interested in... Who he's seeing.” Her blue eyes are narrowed and too piercing for her casual tone.

“That sounds more like a mom than a best friend,” Max snaps, losing patience. She's gotten used to girls asking her about Lucas, who had grown up tall and handsome and could be much more popular than he was if he would only renounce his childhood best friends, and normally it doesn't really bother her beyond being excellent fodder to tease him with later, but today she's not in the mood to deal with any drama that isn't her own, even if her own only exists in her head.

Debbie Palmer huffs, flipping her perfectly-curled ponytail over her shoulder. “You said it, not me,” she mutters under her breath, then looks imploringly at Max like she wasn't standing next to her and couldn't have heard her comment. “So, is he, like, going to Homecoming, or -”

“Yeah, he's just waiting for a girl he's never spoken to before to ask him out through his friend like a fourth-grader,” Max snaps, and steps over Debbie Palmer's leg to stomp out of the change-room.

The final bell makes her jump, and she's cursing herself as she marches into the gym. She knows she's not actually upset about Debbie Palmer, and she probably shouldn't have over-reacted and possibly ruined her best friend's chance to hook up with a cheerleader, but she can't quite bring herself to care; the anxiety and awkwardness turning her stomach to knots translates into anger more easily than it probably should, and anger is much easier to deal with than whatever is making her so jumpy she has to wipe her sweaty hands on the outsides of her thighs before she can grip the handle to the gym door properly.

The high of talking to Jane, of making her laugh and getting a  _See you, Max_ , that actually sounded like she meant it, had predictably faded as the night went on playing video games with her friends, and her embarrassment at every detail of their interaction and guilt over the warm, desperate glow still burning in her belly from the mere memory of Jane's presence had given her strange fever dreams filled with cigarette-flavored kisses which she still hadn't recovered from even now. Not only did her traitor brain analyze everything she'd ever said or done around Jane on loop like one of Billy's old tapes of worst sports injury highlights, but the guilt of fantasizing about a relative stranger, who has really been nothing but kind to her, was eating away at her insides so painfully she was sure Jane would see what she was thinking written all over her face as soon as she saw her. What was she supposed to say to Jane when they saw each other in class? Should she say anything at all? Would they go back to Jane barely acknowledging her existence while Max burned up painfully every time she was near her? Should she want them to? She's worked herself into such a ferver, building up the first time seeing Jane again so much in her mind that she feels like her whole day has been building up to this moment.

Debbie Palmer apparently does not feel the gravity of the situation, because she bursts through the doors after Max, curls flying righteously. “What's your damage, Mayfield? If you still want him -”

Max's laugh is a bit hysterical as she whirls around, the irony of being accused of wanting Lucas when nothing would have made her actual problem easier making her roll her eyes. “Jesus Christ, not everything is about boys. I don't set up dates for Lucas, you can ask. Him. Yourself.”

“Okay, but all I want to know is if he's going to be on any varsity teams by Homecoming, because, like, I'll put in the time, but I need someone who will get on the Homecoming court -”

She screeches and leaps backwards, narrowly avoiding the trajectory of a basketball heading right at Max's chest. Max catches it on instinct, looking up in surprise, and sees Jane standing behind Debbie, arms still in the air from her perfect toss.

“Partners?” she says, eyebrows raised.

Max grins at her, and just like that, the dreamy glow is back.

Debbie mutters something about them being psychos and walks away, huffing. Max dribbles the ball a couple of times and looks around the gym; the other girls are pairing off, gravitating towards the thick black lines near the edge of the court and beginning to pass the ball back and forth. Max hadn't heard the coach's instructions, but she can only assume this is the activity for the day, and follows Jane towards the cluster of girls, bouncing the basketball between her hands and absolutely not staring at Jane's long, pale legs. If she can get through this exercise without hitting anyone in the face with the basketball, especially herself, it will be a bigger miracle than she deserves.

Jane pads over to the opposite black line and raises her hands in front of her chest, planting her feet shoulder-width apart and leaning forward expectantly. She looks like she's concentrating so hard, much more than passing a ball back and forth needs, and Max smiles a bit helplessly as she gets into the same position, the glow spreading to burn her chest and weaken her knees. She lets out a silent prayer and passes the ball, and thankfully it bounces once between them and sails into Jane's hands without issue.

“Any more trouble?” Jane asks knowingly, dribbling the ball between her spread feet a few times before sending it back to Max gracefully.

“Hm?” Max is so lost in her gravitational pull that it takes her a moment to realize what Jane is asking. “Oh, no, Debbie was just asking me about the Homecoming dance.”

“Dance?” Jane tilts her head curiously, hesitating before dribbling the ball Max has impressively managed to throw back to her between her feet again.

“Yeah, she wants to go with my friend Lucas and seems to think I'm his secretary or something,” Max says, making a face. “If she thinks he's going to run for Homecoming court she's going to be sorely disappointed, but I'll let him tell her that.”

Jane smiles at her and tosses her the ball. Only once she is cursing and fumbling the ball in her sweaty hands, trying to wheeze as quietly as possible to ease Jane's wide-eyed concern from the impact of the basketball on her sternum, does she remember that she should probably avoid eye contact with Jane while trying to do anything which might make the punk girl smile in her direction. Giddy, not entirely from the lack of oxygen, Max struggles to find a reassuring smile and bounces the ball on the floor a few times before tossing it in the direction of Jane's shoes. “So maybe I'll skip basketball try-outs,” she says breathlessly.

“Sorry,” Jane says, and Max watches her dirty white Converse shuffle a bit as she catches the ball. “Was that too hard? I don't know much about basketball.”

“Well, don't worry, because I'm clearly an expert,” Max says, and swallows a dopey smile when Jane snickers. She plants her feet and concentrates as hard as she can through the Jane-fog in her mind on nothing but the scuffed Converse in front of her, and she manages to catch the next throw with minimal fumbling. “No, I just wasn't paying attention, it wasn't your fault. Besides, I think throwing hard in an actual game of basketball would be a good strategy, you might be better at basketball than you think. Other team can't win if they're knocked out.”

Jane laughs, full and bright and as devastating as looking directly at her light, and Max looks up without thinking. She's tilting her head, brown eyes sparkling like sunlight on water, and the contrast to her dark make-up and intimidating demeanor is so stark Max feels, with a swoop in her stomach, like she's getting a glimpse of something private. Curious, enraptured, she doesn't realize how long she's been staring until Coach Wilkins blows her whistle and the floor vibrates with ten basketballs dropping at once as the class stops the exercise gratefully and turn to the teacher for instructions.

"Good form, ladies!" Wilkins shouts. "Congratulations, you've graduated to laps! Everyone grab their own basketball, we're dribbling and running the outermost line, and I don't want to see any dawdlers, Redmond!"

The class thunders around Max as she blinks, disoriented. She finds she's still clutching the basketball, and as soon as she is has this thought it slips between her sweaty hands. Her skateboarding muscle memory kicks in and she bends one knee to trap the ball under her foot, managing an impressively minimal amount of stumbling as her brain catches up with her and she blushes down to her tube socks. She takes a deep, steadying breath before she looks up at Jane, but Jane is no longer in front of her; one of the edgy-on-purpose kids is leading her away by the arm, leaning in to whisper to her emphatically as they head towards the bag of basketballs on the other side of the room. Max's stomach drops with disappointment even as she tells herself to be relieved Jane didn't see her break down yet again. Free from Jane's mind-melting gaze, she expertly rolls the ball out from her her foot and nudges it into the air, wiping her palms on her shorts as she reaches out to catch it. She feels strangely cold, like she's walked into the shade after being out in the baking summer sun, and a little shiver runs through her body as she throws the basketball down and takes off at a jog.

They run in a great, rumbling mob around the gym, and Max keeps her mind carefully blank, losing herself in the mindless exercise and rhythm of feet and basketballs that is almost musical. A few times she catches glimpses of dirty white converse in front of her, but she keeps her gaze resolutely on the floor and throws herself into the laps, and by the time Coach Wilkins blows her whistle and motions for the girls to join her on the other side of the gym all residual glow from her brief interaction with Jane has dimmed, leaving her with a dull roaring in her ears as she feels Jane's gravitational pull on every inch of her skin but stubbornly refuses herself one indulgent glance. Jane is clearly not having the same roller-coaster reaction to their conversations, and she needs to get a hold of her hormones if she isn't going to expose herself like she'd been worried about this morning.

As if summoned by irony, those now-familiar white converse appear beside her own worn sneakers and one reaches out to nudge the outside of her foot. "No one can tell me what gym class actually teaches us," Jane mutters, holding out her hand and letting the basketball roll off her fingers into the bag.

There's something endearing about strong, trigger-happy Jane Hopper complaining about being forced to exercise, and Max grins down at the bag of basketballs, resigning herself to the tug in her belly as she's thrust back into the sun. "Mostly ball jokes," she mutters back, and her smile is too wide when she meets Wilkin's suspicious glare as Jane covers her mouth with her hand to hide her snickers.

Coach Wilkins releases them to the change-room, and the high-pitched chattering around them rises like insects buzzing as the group begins slowly making their way across the gym. To Max's surprise Jane falls into step beside her, snapping the blue elastic around her wrist, and she's just starting to fight the dull roar in her brain for something to talk about when the edgy-on-purpose girl who had stolen Jane away before - Heather? Helen? - marches up to them and only spares Max a suspicious glare before turning to Jane.

"Fuck, you ready for a smoke or what?" she says dramatically, stretching her arms above her head like she's just run a marathon. Max rolls her eyes.

"I don't have time," Jane says, still playing with the blue elastic. It's so bright, contrasted with all of the black fabric and leather wrapped around Jane's arms, and Max wonders idly why she wears it when she has such short, styled hair. "You go."

"Aw, come on, Jane," the other girl wheedles. "Don't make me freeze my ass off out there by myself like a loser."

"There's always someone there," Jane says. "I was late last time I went out after gym."

"So?" the other girl says dismissively.

"So I don't want to be late," Jane says, and that finality is in her voice, the dangerous edge which made the group of girls converging on Max back off her very first day. The other girl actually stops for a split-second in her tracks, and when she whirls around without another word, her annoyed glance is for Max, not Jane. It might be because of the smirk on Max's face, but Max still thinks this is unfair.

Still, she can't resist leaning in, jabbing her elbow in Jane's direction although she doesn't dare touch her. "You mean you want to try this crazy  _school_  thing that keeps getting in the way of smoke breaks?"

Jane grins down at her feet. "Heather is... friendly. She shares her cigarettes when I don't have time to go back to my locker to get mine."

"Where does she keep hers?" Max asks, before realizing she might not want to know.

"Behind her ear," Jane says. "I can't keep mine there, because the teachers watch me. Plus one time my friend Axel stored his behind his ear and then he almost burnt his eyebrows off because his hairspray was all over it."

Max bursts out laughing. She stops in the middle of the gym, clutching her stomach, and even though she's mostly hysterical from so much prolonged exposure to the brunette she can't regret howling like an idiot when Jane hovers at her side, looking cautiously pleased with herself. She's shaking when she straightens, and she risks a glance at Jane as she pulls her long braid over her shoulder and tugs the elastic out, running her fingers over it for something to do with her hands. "Now I see what's so scary about your look," she teases, reckless.

Jane's lip is twitching as she fixes Max with a flat look. "Punk is dangerous," she says seriously.

Max snorts without meaning to, and they both burst out laughing this time. Jane's mouth is slightly lop-sided as she laughs freely,  a slight blush spreading across her cheeks, and she's so beautiful Max covers her eyes with her palms, glad of the laughter to excuse her reaction.

Coach Wilkin's yell makes her tear her hands away, and they both stop laughing abruptly as they jump, as if they were caught doing something wrong. "Get moving, Mayfield, Hopper!" she shouts, waving her clipboard impatiently. "I'm not writing you a note if you're late to your next classes!"

Max's blush is from standing so close to Jane's overwhelming light, but she hopes it helps her to look contrite. "Sorry, Coach!" she calls, and as she and Jane turn to hurry towards the change-room she's surprised to see the rest of the gym empty. She's not quite ready to let go of her conversation with Jane, though, drunk on the punk girl's laugh and not eager for the hang-over she's inevitably going to have after Jane leaves and she has to be alone with herself again, and she blurts out the first thing she thinks of. "Which one's Axel? I need to picture this. Is it one of the smokers?"

Jane's smile falters a bit. "No, he's - he lives in Chicago." She glances as Max quickly, eyes cautious, and then looks down at her hands.

"Oh." Max curses herself, stomach twisting as she watches Jane's face close off again. "You must miss them a lot, hey?"

Jane looks at her in surprise, then smiles, the little twitch of the corner of her mouth, before dropping her knee-melting gaze to her arm, where she's playing with the black handkerchief wrapped around her wrist. "Yes," she says quietly. She tugs at the knot with her black fingernails and one side of her mouth quirks up, like she's lost in a memory.

Max watches her, aching. She wants to know what Jane is remembering, what she's been through, what the handkerchief means. She wants to know everything about Jane, and she wants to make sure Jane never looks this sad again. “I know Hawkins is kind of underwhelming when you first get here,” she says, pulling her fingers through her half-braided hair so that she doesn't reach out for the other girl. “When I first got here, I wanted to turn tail and run back as fast as I could. But it's got some cool spots, and not everyone here sucks completely, and you get used to it. It takes some adjusting, but that just means it's not like anywhere else.”

Jane looks at her out of the corner of her eye, and Max, hypnotized under her gaze, has that feeling that Jane can read her thoughts again. “You're not from Hawkins?”

“No, I'm from San Diego. I moved here in eighth grade. It's not the Windy City, but trust me, it was a bit of a culture shock, too.” She grins at Jane, and her stomach flutters when Jane's answering smile is genuine. "Especially she snow," she adds, frowning as she thinks of the impending change in weather.

"Do you like snow now?" Jane says, mercifully saving Max from another door-related mishap by leading the way through the doorway.

"Still prefer the sun," Max mumbles, slowing her steps. She's suddenly very, painfully aware that they are headed to the change-room together. The room where they will have to change into their other clothes. By changing out of their current clothes. Together. She has somehow, mercifully, never had to be in the vicinity of Jane changing her clothes in the few weeks they've had gym class together, mostly by being accidently-on-purpose late for this period every day, and her heartbeat picks up like an animal caught in a bear trap as she considers, a bit wildly, running out the doors and wearing her gym clothes for the rest of the day.

Jane, unperturbed, scoops up her backpack and pulls a strap over one shoulder. "But you learn to not hate it?" she sighs, and it takes Max a slightly hysterical moment to remember what she's talking about.

"Oh. Yeah." Max is hyper-aware that the stifling heat in the room is no longer purely from Jane herself, and she takes a deep breath, furious with herself. "There are things to not hate about... Well, not everything, but most things."

Jane smiles at her for a long moment - Max would have thought she should be immune to this by now, but her knees weaken just as much as the first time - and shifts her shoulder, letting the strap of her backpack slide further down her shoulder. "Yes," she says softly. "That's true. Thank you, Max. See you in chemistry." And she turns away abruptly, breaking their eye contact like it wasn't the only thing keeping Max upright, and lopes away.

Max starts, body jerking like she's waking up all at once from a deep dream, and she watches Jane's retreating back in bewilderment. She blushes and turns away in understanding when Jane turns towards the showers and whirls around as soon as she hears the water start, pulling off her clothes and trying to jump into her street-wear all at once in her hurry to get out of the change-room before Jane comes back. Desperately trying not to think about what was happening only a few feet away from her, she hastily rubs some deoderant under her arms - the best her desk-mates are going to get, since there's no way is she getting into the shower now - and takes off for the door at a run, half-open backpack flapping behind her.

She almost bowls Lucas over as she bursts through the door. He swears and plants his feet, catching her by the waist as she lets out a shriek she'll never admit to and tumbles towards the floor. "Holy shit, Max, you're going to kill me one of these days!"

"Then don't stand in front of doorways," Max snaps. She pushes the messy hair out of her eyes and settles back onto her own feet, wondering if there is going to be a moment of senior year she'll be able to remember without wanting to die. "You should go out for football instead of basketball, that was one hell of a block," she adds as a apology.

"You're the one who tackled me," Lucas mutters, but he wraps his arm loosely around her shoulder as they fall into step. "What the hell took you so long in there?"

Max blushes, and she sees Lucas's eyebrows raise out of the corner of her eye. "Calm down, we've still got time to get to class," she says with an eyeroll, avoiding the question. "You are allowed to go places without me sometimes, you know. You won't lose your stalker status in my heart."

Lucas snorts, tightening his hold on her for a split-second to throw her off-balance. "You're such an asshole. Why am I nice to you again?"

"Because waiting for me gives you an excuse to lurk outside the girls's change room," Max grins.

"Oh yeah, the part where they come out fully clothed really gets me going," he says, deadpan.

Max laughs, bumping his shoulder with hers as they turn the corner into the English hall. She's waiting for the familiar crash after flying to close to Jane's sun, but the spring in her step is genuine. She still  _wants_  Jane, visceral and shameless and irresistible no matter how many times she humiliates herself, but the more she talks to Jane, whether joking back and forth or taunting hints into the past which makes Jane's surprisingly-expressive face close off, the more she finds it makes the embarrassment lurking on the horizon of her day bearable. Jane had seeked her out today, partnering with her and talking to her when she didn't have to, and she's starting to find that purely being around Jane is all she wants to do. She isn't cured of her hopeless awkwardness, as her embarrassing exit proves, but she remembers the dizzying flash of something deeper she'd seen on Jane's face as they passed the basketball back and forth, and she's starting to believe that Jane could want to be her friend as much as she wants to be Jane's. The thought bolsters her, and she glances as Lucas, who had professed his love to her three years ago and is now waving the hand resting on her shoulder so close to her chest he brushes it without noticing, and she thinks, _Friend._

She likes the sound of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hairspray-and-cigarette thing is kind of an urban legend at my school, I have no idea if it would actually burn that badly if you got hairspray on it agshlslhjk. It's my birthday, and there was no better present I could have gotten than your kudos and comments!!! Thank you so much!!!  
> Next chapter something will actually happen, I promise, this was supposed to have another scene but Max slowed it down being a useless lesbian and I am calling her out on it, stop monolouging in your head and tALK TO HER


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I can @ people on here but @Naty this chapter's for you, I hope it is everything you dreamed ashljslshjlh

"It is kind of incredible," Lucas says, raising his eyes and hands to the heavens like he's begging for their help, "how wrong you are."

"Incredible because of the zero percent of wrong I am," Dustin shoots back like the four-year-old he is when he's fighting with Lucas.

Max rolls her eyes dramatically even though neither of them are looking at her. The three of them are making their way through the teeming mass of students towards Dustin's locker, the farthest from their last class, and the boys have been fighting about Dungeons and Dragons from the moment Mr. Hammond had dismissed them. Mike had teased them over lunch with details of their new upcoming campaign, and apparently Dustin and Lucas's disagreement over whether this new adventure took place in the new, advanced D&D version released in the second manual or not was thrilling enough to be continued two periods later.

Lucas waves his hands incredulously. "The Red Worm was in the last story, Dustin! We fought him! Just because you rolled terribly -"

"Yeah, but it didn't have half the characteristics it would need to fight us once we hit level four! The new manual expanded on the old monsters, just because it's not new -"

"You know what, I'm tired of listening to you talk out of your ass. I'm asking Mike. Hey, sane person, we need you," Lucas yells, grabbing Max's arm and yanking her abruptly to the side as he charges through the crowd of students. Max yelps and stumbles, barely staying upright as she's dragged the wrong way through both directions of hallway traffic, and by the time Lucas releases her arm to punch Mike's shoulder as they reach the taller boy's locker, she is filled with righteous indignation as she raises her head to give her best friend hell.

Her words die on her open lips as she meets kohl-lined brown eyes sparkling with laughter.

Jane is leaning against the locker next to Mike's, leafing through a small stack of loose-leaf papers. She raises an eyebrow at Max, smirking a little bit as she glances at the boys arguing behind them, and she's so out of place, casually amused by the party's antics like she's always been part of the group, Max feels like she was thrust into an alternate dimension when she was pulled through the crowd. Max blushes, stupidly; she's been getting better at this being-friends thing, exchanging school-related jokes that almost resembled real conversation with Jane after class before they part ways in the hall, but she always has time to prepare for this, compiling stupid jokes or observations she thinks will make Jane smile all morning and working out the nervous energy thrumming through her body even hours after being in the other girl's presence by skateboarding or kicking the boys's asses at video games. She was going to see Jane next period, in chemistry class, but she'd been counting on Lucas and Dustin's annoying but familiar presence to distract her enough so that she could bolster herself and would be able to fake being normal by then. She's not used to Jane's gravitational pull outside of the context of a class, where she at least knows where to stand and when to talk, and she's a little bit lost in Jane's big, sparkling eyes when a strong arm winds around her waist and hauls her into the air.

"Max is on my side!" Dustin declares, heaving her towards Mike with a surprisingly strong grip around the bottom on her ribs. "Aren't you, oh brilliant zoomer?"

"When have I ever been on your side?" Max gripes, blushing furiously as she struggles in his embrace. She digs her blunt fingernails into his hand, yanking his arm off of her when he swears and flails, and punches his arm hard enough to hurt after she darts away. "I barely even know what you're talking about, don't drag me into your nerd-fest."

"Son of a bitch," Dustin complains, shaking out the hand she'd scratched and giving her a wounded look. "You don't need to maul a guy, Max."

"You don't need to grab a girl, Dusty," Max snaps, and then the snicker behind her makes the irritation in her belly melt to that now-familiar glow.

She turns towards Jane, who's looking at Dustin curiously, head tilted to lean against the locker behind her. When she feels Max's gaze on her she meets it with her own without moving her head, her amused smirk softening when their eyes meet. Max smiles back, irresistibly, and shuffles a little bit closer to her, shielding Jane from her friends with her body even though they're all taller than her.

"I see you've met my wastoid friends," she says, rolling her eyes and shifting the books in her arms. She doesn't know what to do with her hands.

"They're funny," Jane says, glancing over Max's shoulders at the boys. "Mike is so quiet and nice. I didn't think his friends would be like this."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "Mike is  _quiet?_  He's been called a lot of things, but I've never heard that one before."

Jane laughs, shifting against the locker to face Max, but before Max can find anything else to say in her over-heated brain Mike's voice comes from over her shoulder. "What's so funny?"

Jane's eyes shift from Max to Mike, hovering too-close behind Max, and Max stamps down the violent urge to elbow him out of her space. His voice  _is_  quiet, gentle in the way she's only heard him use on Will when the smaller boy is having a panic attack, and Max clenches her jaw as she reminds herself,  _friends_. "I heard my name," Mike adds, and she feels him glance down, a little accusatory, in her direction.

"Yeah, I'm telling her about your Star Wars doll collection," Max says, deadpan. Maybe she's a little bit petty.

Mike sputters behind her as Jane laughs again, covering her mouth with her hand a bit apologetically as she glances up at Mike. She's in a plain white t-shirt today, sleeves rolled a few times at the top of her biceps, and the ratty flannel tied low around her hips drags the t-shirt material down a bit, flattening it against her lithe form just enough to make Max sweat. Jane shoves the hand covering her mouth into her jeans pocket, adjusting the books balanced in the crook of her other arm, and Mike's voice sounds far away when he stutters to defend himself even though he's speaking right into Max's ear.

"Mike," Jane smiles. "It's okay. I'm sure Star Wars is good."

"You haven't seen Star Wars?" Mike says incredulously, and the loud, excitable Mike Max knows is back as his voice rises so high with disbelief it squeaks.

Jane glances away for a split-second, her smile faltering. "Should I have?"

The genuine worry on her face, like she thinks she'll get yet another detention for not knowing what Star Wars is, makes Max's stomach twist. "No, not everyone is a walking cliche like Mike is," she says, and elbows him back when he jabs his into her side. "We just don't get that many movies at the theater here, so everyone has seen the same ones. You should watch it, though, it's really good." She smiles at Jane, and the giddiness in her stomach balloons when Jane smiles back gratefully.

“Yeah, it is,” Mike says eagerly. “Do you like sci-fi?”

Jane shrugs the shoulder not leaning against the locker, pulling her books closer to her chest. “I don't know.”

“Well, Star Wars is a good place to start,” Mike says. “I have a bunch of the comics if you want to borrow them, and the novelization of the first movie – well, episode four – is really good to give you context for the extended universe before you watch the movie, so that you kind of know what's going on. I have all the movies, too, if you want to watch them.” He's babbling, the way he always does whenever Star Wars is mentioned, but it's a bit breathless, like he's trying to get all of his words out at once. Max can feel the hopefulness rolling off his body behind her, and she feels a guilty twinge in her chest for teasing him in front of Jane.

Jane's eyebrows have been drawing closer together at every word that comes out of Mike's mouth, but she manages a small, confused smile even as she glances away as if giving herself a moment to absorb his rambling speech. “I am going to end up with everything of yours if you don't stop letting me borrow things,” she teases, the corner of her lip twitching up as she tilts her head back onto the locker to look at Mike. Max wonders, suddenly, whether she should step out from between them.

“Yeah,” Mike says with a grin in his voice. “I hope the English notes help.”

“They will,” Jane says. “Thank you for lending them to me. We should get to class.” She pushes off the locker abruptly, raising her eyebrows with a grin just for Max as she passes her, and then tugging on the redhead's sweater sleeve when Max only raises her eyebrows back, eyes glazed.

“Oh, me,” Max says, surprised. “Right.” She turns to follow Jane, who is shouldering her way into the stream of student traffic, and then whirls around again on a thought, grabbing Mike's forearm as he furrows his brows at her. “When you heard your name?” she says in a low voice, “she was saying how nice you are.”

Mike's face lights up, and Max waves to Lucas and turns to follows Jane into the crowd, the guilt in her chest easing just a bit even as her stomach turns over.

Jane glances over her shoulder as Max catches up to her. “Sorry, had to say good-bye,” Max pants, falling into step beside the other girl. The crowd is thinning around them, and Max is feverishly grateful she had picked up her chemistry books before she'd run into Jane.

Jane bites her lip as she grins, and Max is pretty sure her feet are no longer touching the floor as she floats along the hallway beside her. “You seem really close.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Max says. “We've known each other forever. Well, they've all been friends since they were kids, I guess I'm an interloper. But they're all pretty great. Don't tell them I said that, though, as you can see their heads don't need to get any bigger.”

Jane snickers, and Max curses the warning bell for masking the sound. She feels a tug of panic in her belly as the end of her excuse to talk to Jane approaches. and she blurts out the first thing she thinks of. "Are you more of a movie or book person?"

Jane eyes her as they turn into the chemistry classroom. "Movie or book person?"

"Yeah, like, which do you prefer?" Max rambles, those tractor-beam eyes drawing out her words even as she begs herself to stop exposing what a geek she is to the coolest girl she's ever met. "Because if you like movies the Star Wars trilogy is a good way to get into science fiction, but if you're a reader stuff like Isaac Asimov is probably better to start with to see if you like it."

Jane's expression clears. "Science fiction," she murmurs, as if repeating the phrase to herself, before looking at Max from beneath her long lashes. "I don't read much," she says, hefting the stack of papers on her arm, grimacing almost apologetically.

"Oh," Max nods. "Fair enough." She slows her steps as they squeeze between the rows to desks, heading towards the back of the classroom. "The movies should work for you, then," she finishes lamely, trying not to wince at her own awkwardness.

But when Jane smiles at her softly she gets that flash again, like she's getting a glimpse below the blindingly-hot surface of the other girl, and she carries the glow with her to her desk.

The class is a lecture instead of a lab, and Max loses herself in her note-taking. She doesn't look up from her scribbling when the classroom phone rings, but, predictably, her head jerks up before she can stop herself when the teacher calls, "Ms. Hopper? Come to the front, please."

The flannel tied around Jane's hips brushes Max when the other girl passes her desk, and the goosebumps from the sensation spread from the small spot all over her body. She watches half-hidden behind the curtain of her hair as Mrs. Parker whispers something to Jane, and worry twists her stomach when Jane turns immediately and walks out of the classroom. Frowning, she glances at the teacher, who is writing something at her desk, unconcerned, and then at the clock, which shows there is only ten minutes left of the class. What could be so urgent that it couldn't wait until between periods? Was Jane in trouble again? Max hadn't heard any rumors about Jane fighting recently, and she stamps down the sudden spike of betrayal at the thought that Jane wouldn't tell her about any trouble she might have gotten into. They were friendly, but Jane wasn't exactly the most forthcoming person in the world, and she certainly didn't owe it to Max to be just because she'd smiled at her a few times. Annoyed with herself, she stands and gathers her books in her arms as Mrs. Parker dismisses them with a reminder that they have a test the next day, but when she glances back at Jane's desk as sees the other girl's books still laying across it her stomach drops with worry.

She chews her lip, hesitating for a long moment, before whirling around before she can think better of it and stomping to the back to the classroom to grab Jane's books. It's a friendly thing, she tells herself stubbornly, lifting her chin as she walks out of the classroom even though no one is looking at her. She would appreciate it if a class-mate had taken her books if she had forgotten them. Anyone would. It was a thoughtful thing to do, and would absolutely not be a flashing neon sign to Jane about how much Max was scrambling for the thinnest excuse to see her again. Just like every other time Max has spoken to her was.

Back to being annoyed with herself, she dumps the books into her locker unceremoniously and heads to World History, wishing for her skateboard even though the halls are packed with students.

\---

They have A.V. club after school, so she plots all through class to catch Jane on her way out the door after detention to give her back her books. She could probably find her on her way to detention, but she walks with Will to the A.V. classroom after World History, and he is already an unspoken, constant reminder of how blaringly obvious she is around Jane, so she resolves to make the trip by herself to avoid seeing the smile on his face. She feels weirdly guilty when they stop by her locker and she puts both chemistry books into her backpack in front of him, but he says nothing and she silently berates herself for her overreaction to this perfectly innocent situation all the way to A.V.

She's mostly in the A.V. club because all of her friends are, and the hour usually drags on even when she's not morbidly anticipating something afterwards. The club has expanded beyond herself and the boys over the years, a smattering of other excitable, marginalized kids slowly streaming in over the course of high school until they finally had enough members to actually qualify being called a club, and she spends most of the meeting feigning interest in Jake Cassidy's rambling explanation of the tuning mechanism on a speaker system. When an hour finally rolls around her friends are elbows-deep in the history department's projector, and they barely acknowledge her enough to wave her off when she tells them casually she'll be right back.

She forces herself to walk all the way to the detention room. With all of her nervous energy it's more of a power walk, but she still regrets it when she reaches the classroom where she and Jane had shared detention and finds it empty. Frowning, she looks up and down the hall, but all the other classrooms are locked and the hallway is deserted. She hasn't had enough detentions to know whether they regularly change the classroom it takes place in, but with a sinking feeling in her stomach she realizes that she doesn't have time to run around the entire school looking for detention, especially if this room was empty because the period was already over. Jane was gone, and now their too-brief time together tomorrow was going to have to be filled by Max explaining why she'd technically stolen Jane's books the night before their test.

All of the nervous energy seeps out of her. She half-heartedly jogs to the front doors in case Jane is still waiting for Chief Hopper, but the pick-up circle is empty. Max is still staring at the abandoned parking lot when the boys burst through the door in a loud jumble, shouting over each other about whatever project they'd been working on, and she manages to find a smile for them when they greet her excitedly.

“What are you doing out here?” Lucas asks as they trample down the front steps towards her car.

Max shrugs, shoving her cold hands into the pockets of her sweater. “I thought I'd warm up the car, since usually once you nerds are balls-deep in your machines it takes forever for you to finish up.” She doesn't really know why she's lying, but she's not quite ready to bring up Jane's name to anyone else yet.

Dustin makes some stupid joke about priding himself on not being a fast finisher, and the boys jump into tearing each other apart so enthusiastically they don't notice that Max doesn't join in. As she throws her heavy backpack onto Lucas's lap in the passenger's seat and he groans dramatically, the conversation turns to whose house they can all go to where they can hang out with the least amount of parental involvement, and a stupid, reckless idea begins to form in her mind.

“Count me out, but I can drive you guys there,” she says as she starts up the car. She rolls her eyes into the rear-view mirror at the chorus of protests, the speeding of her heart not entirely from the purr of the engine beneath her. “I have a test tomorrow, and you assholes know you're not actually going to get any homework done.”

“We might,” Dustin protests, but she fixes him with a look and he relents. “Fine, be lame. You have to live in the moment sometimes, you know, Max. High school is about more than homework and tests.”

“Yeah.” Max grins and elbows Lucas. “Keg parties and meaningless sex.”

“Lucas is going to a keg party?” Dustin demands with a surprised crack in his voice while Lucas rolls his eyes at her.

“No, but he could probably fuck Debbie Palmer if he wanted to,” Max says, glancing both ways and pulling out onto the main road. “You'd have to be Homecoming king though, I think,” she adds to Lucas when he raises an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah, I definitely want to put myself in a Carrie-like situation just for the possibility of getting into Debbie's pants,” Lucas says sarcastically.

“Cool telekinetic powers, though,” Dustin says enthusiastically.

“Telepathic,” Lucas corrects.

“Jesus Christ,” Max says, when Dustin opens his mouth to snap back. “Where am I going, wastoids?”

She drops them off at Mike's, still furiously fighting with herself in her own head even as she waves them off when they try to drag her inside with them, and she hasn't fully decided whether she's really going through with this terrible idea until she pulls up in front of Chief Hopper's trailer. She stares at the door for a full minute, car running, before she groans, bangs her hands twice on the steering wheel, and grabs her backpack with the same false confidence she rode her skateboard with for months before she finally stopped falling off.

Chief Hopper answers the door. He frowns at her, eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looks her up and down like he can see everything she's ever done wrong in her life from just a glance. He's still in his police uniform, the butt of his gun peeking out from the belt slung low around his waist, and Max regrets this already. “Um, hello, sir,” she says, after a long pause of him glaring mutely. “Is – is Jane home?”

Chief Hopper's eyebrows furrow like angry caterpillars over his suspicious eyes. “Why?”

“Oh.” For some reason she's never thought about Chief Hopper being overprotective of Jane, but she supposes he _is_  responsible for the teen-age girl his whole town is obsessed with, and as police chief he probably knows the worst of the worst about Hawkins.  _It's not like I'm a creepy teen-age boy she could be dating,_  she thinks, a bit bitterly. “Well, we're in class together and I -”

“Max?” Deflating gratefully at the sound of Jane's voice, Max thinks to herself that she'd never expected Jane would be the one saving her from a awkward situation, since she's usually the one making Max pathetically awkward. And then she looks at Jane, and stops thinking at all.

Jane has paused mid-step behind Chief Hopper, eyebrows furrowed much less aggressively than the chief's as she tilts her head at Max curiously. She has obviously just come from a bath or shower, her skin flushed the lightest pink and her face clear of make-up, and Max's breath gets caught in her throat as she takes in the delicate sweep of Jane's cheekbones, the graceful slope of her nose, the dark patches on her pale lips where she's worried them with her teeth. Her eyes, always so big and commanding when accentuated by eyeshadow and kohl, seem to take up most of her face now, round and contrasting starkly with her pale skin under the yellow lights of the trailer. Her features are obviously the same, but without the protection of her intimidating fashion she looks so different, a whole new, softer layer of beauty accentuating the same face in such an opposite way from what Max is used to, and Max thinks, wildly, that she's suddenly staring head-on into a hidden part of Jane she's only gotten glimpses of before.

Jane looks delicate, smaller and more open than Max has ever seen her, but the thing in her guts twists again, and Max knows she's just as dangerous _._

Max, however, is locked in that tractor-beam gaze, which is apparently not dependant on eye make-up. “You have curly hair,” she blurts out, grinning foolishly.

“What? Oh.” Jane blushes –  _blushes_  – and reaches up with one hand, mussing her damp curls absently. “Yes. I guess you wouldn't be able to tell.”

Chief Hopper snorts, and Max snaps back to herself all at once. “Yeah, don't blow your cover all at once, kid,” he says humorously, but the look he gives Jane is heavy with meaning. Jane's glare is no less terrifying without her make-up, but Chief Hopper only rolls his eyes and steps away from the door, crossing his arms and leaning against the coach as Jane pads towards Max. “So who is this?”

“Max from school,” Jane says before Max can answer. Max steps hesitantly over the threshold, since neither of them seem to need her for this conversation. “You saw her.”

“Did I?” Chief Hopper looks as confused as Max feels, wondering when he would have seen her long enough to know who she was, before his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Wait, the girl you had detention with? That's great, Jane, that's exactly what I meant by  _find new people to hang out with_.”

“She's in my classes,” Jane says, stopping so close to Max that the flowery scent from her soap makes Max so dizzy she forgets to be annoyed at the chief. “And you don't know it's bad, I'm  _your_  kid and I'm in detention.” She turns to smile at Max, ignoring Chief Hopper, and Max isn't completely sure what her mouth is doing as she tries not to laugh, but she knows it's unflattering.

“Attitude, kid,” Chief Hopper warns, but he pushes off the couch with a groan and begins heading towards the kitchenette at the other end of the trailer.

Jane grimaces apologetically at Max. “So what are you doing?” she says softly, and Max has a slightly hysterical moment where she wonders what she did to give her raging hormones away before she realizes Jane has no idea why she's there.

“Yeah, um.” Max blushes, ducking to let her long hair drape over her face as she pulls her backpack in front of her. “You left your books and stuff in class, so I grabbed them for you.”

She only catches the peripheral of Jane beaming at her, but her eyes burn beneath her lowered lashes anyway. “That's where they went! I thought someone stole them when I went back and they were gone.”

Max gets a little bit light-headed from how fast the blood rushes to the surface of her skin as she blushes harder. She hadn't thought of Jane simply going back for her books. “Yeah, um, sorry,” she mumbles, pretending to be rifling through her backpack even though Jane's books are on top. “I thought I could catch you after detention, make it easier for you, but I couldn't find you.”

“Hop was late from work so he called school to make them change today's detention,” Jane says. “I have to go in on Saturday.” She makes a face.

Max's head snaps up, forgetting she shouldn't look at Jane straight-on in her indignation. “Seriously? That's so unfair!”

“She wouldn't be going in at all if she hadn't been fighting, Max from detention!” Chief Hopper calls from the kitchenette.

Jane rolls her eyes, but doesn't spare him a glance. “Thank you for bringing my notes,” she says softly to Max. Everything about her is soft, in this moment, and Max sways a little where she stands, overwhelmed.

“Yeah, no problem.” She scratches the back of her neck and looks away, smiling at their feet. Jane's socks are thick and woollen, and her grey sweatpants are tucked into the top of them. Max's whole body glows. “I figured you would need them, what with the test tomorrow.” She's done what she came to do, and she somehow even avoided making Jane think she's a total wastoid for it, but she can't quite make herself move out of Jane's light, even as it burns her.

Jane's whole body jerks. “We have a test tomorrow?” she cries.

“How do you not know about a test?” Hopper calls irritably.

“Someone pulled me out of chemistry today for a phone call,” Jane snaps back with a scowl over her shoulder, and although the test was announced two weeks ago Max grins and says nothing. “Do you know which chapters it's on?” Jane says, turning back to Max with wide, anxious eyes.

“I think it's the whole unit,” Max says. “All the labs we've done so far, anyway.”

Jane cards her fingers through her messy hair, and despite her concern over the other girl's anxiety Max's eyes follow the bounce of her dark curls with glazed eyes. “Damn it, I left my lab folder in my locker for lecture today,” she lements, looking genuinely distressed.

Max, looking carefully down at the backpack in her hands, feels another stupid idea forming in her Jane-fogged brain and wonders, resigned, how many of them she is going to go through with today. “Well,” she begins, trying for casual even after her voice breaks, “I mean, I have all the labs. In my chem book. Which I have here, because I was going to study tonight. So, since they're here, we could both use them... Studying together.” She clenches her jaw with the effort not to wince and chances a glance at Jane.

Jane's smile has the full force of the sun breaking through the clouds. “Really? It's okay?”

Max blushes, planting her feet so that she doesn't take a physical step back from the force of Jane's honest and unprotected smile. “Yeah, of course, it helped a lot when we were doing the worksheet together,” she says, swinging her backpack over her shoulder for something to do with her hands.

Jane, miraculously, beams at her and nods. With a flurry of dark curls she whirls around, and Max stares after her for a dumbfounded moment before scrambling to follow her. “Hop, we're studying!” Jane calls, socked feet sliding along the faux-wood floor as she leads a slightly-dazed Max through the living room towards the far side of the trailer.

“Don't call me Hop!” Chief Hopper yells back irritably. “Do you want snacks?”

“Yes!” Jane says, and pushes open a door at the end of the trailer to lead the way inside.

Heavy, wailing guitar riffs and screeching women's voices drift from a beat-up, old boombox perched atop a squat wooden wardrobe in opposite corner from the doorway. A single bed, strewn messily with a faded afghan and purple sheets, takes up most of the rest of the tiny room, more of a closet than anything, and as she looks around at the posters of bands far too cool and scary-looking for her to have heard of tacked over the panelled walls, Max thinks she is in Jane Hopper's  _bedroom_  and her knees lock as her body is set on fire with her blush.

Jane, being a normal person and not a secret creep, doesn't seem to think anything of this, spreading the books Max had returned to her over her bed with a pensive frown. “Did I miss anything that would be on the test from today's class?”

Max has to swallow before she can trust herself to answer. “Not really,” she says, and forces her legs to move so that she's not standing in the doorway, although she can't make herself approach the bed.  _Get it together, Mayfield._  “I've got my notes here so you can complete yours, though,” she says, and swings her backpack around her body again to look for her books, proud of how little her hands are shaking.

Jane smiles at her from beside the bed, curls floating around her head like a cloud, the giant knitted sweater draped over three-quarters of her slim body sagging a bit to the side around her graceful neck and exposing one defined collarbone, and Max, burning up as she stares, thinks Jane is more than the sun, as Max has been thinking of her; she's a collection of suns, a constellation, so many different kinds of beauty and power and mystery in one heavenly body. There will never not be something about Jane for Max to discover and be in awe of, and it's no wonder Max gets lost in her gravitational pull whenever she gets too close.

It's not a significant moment in any other way, but Max stares at Jane, feeling the thought come over her like the sun rising over her face. She must have been staring too long because she comes back to herself when Jane shifts, forehead pinching in confusion as she shuffles her feet uncertainly, and the flood of heat which engulfs Max's body is from embarrassment this time.

“Oh, I just -” She glances away from Jane, panicking, her wide eyes landing on the boombox at the other end of the room. “I – I haven't heard this before, who is this?”

Jane perks up. “The Lunachicks? They're amazing. They're pretty new, we had to go to New York to see them.”

“New York? Holy shit.” Max is feverishly curious about who 'we' is, but she's too raw from her revelation to hear about Jane's cool punk boyfriend who takes her all the way to New York for concerts. “I've never heard girl leads on punk rock before,” she says instead, watching the boombox intensely like the visual is part of the music.

“Really? The girl groups are the best ones. I have a lot -”

“Hey, come get your food!” Hopper yells distantly. “I'm not serving you, kid.”

Jane makes a face at Max. “I'll show you after chemistry,” she says, and spares Max a small smile before turning to pad out of the room.

Max takes a deep breath, trying to comfort herself with the thought that if it were possible to die of embarrassment she would be dead already. She realizes she still has her hand in her bag and rolls her eyes at herself, pulling out her books and dropping her backpack onto the ground heavily.  _Friends_ , she thinks fiercely, and then walks across the room and sits defiantly on the bed.

By the time Jane comes back with a family-sized salad bowl filled with stove-top popcorn and M&Ms, Max has her lab reports and class notes stacked haphazardly along the afghan and is sorting them by date. They fall into studying without incident, and Max marvels again at how easy it is, exchanging ideas and fact-checking in their sea of notebooks and lab worksheets. Jane is the most serious study partner she's ever had, only pausing in her barrage of questions and suggestions to shovel handfuls of her popcorn-and-M&M mixture into her mouth, and Max, watching her chew with her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, thinks she might be retaining more in this one night of studying than she has all semester.

Max is reading off of one of Jane's flashcards when they hear a soft knock at the door. Chief Hopper is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, but his face is softer than when he'd greeted Max at the door. “It's 10:00, girls,” he says. “Start wrapping it up.”

“Seriously?” Max blurts out. She glances around until her gaze falls onto the alarm clock balanced precariously on the corner of the wardrobe, and she starts. “Shit, it is!”

“Language,” Chief Hopper says with a frown.

“You first,” Jane snaps at him, then turns to Max with a concerned look. “Are you going to be in trouble? With your family?”

“No, I go to Mike's or Lucas's after school to do homework a lot, they're used to it. I just didn't realize we'd been studying for that long.” She smiles reassuringly at Jane as she leans forward to begin gathering her things, and she knows the bubble of focus brought on by studying is gone when Jane smiles back and she drops a pile of loose-leaf papers onto the floor.

“I think we got through everything,” Jane sighs, sorting through their papers and starting a neat pile of Max's things at her knee.

“Good job, kid,” Chief Hopper says, and Max looks up in surprise, but Jane just shrugs. “Walk her out, and then you're doing the dishes. Nice to meet you, Max from detention.”

“Uh, you too, sir,” she answers as Chief Hopper pushes off from the doorway and starts down the hall. Jane snickers, which turns into a full-blown laugh when Max turns to her with a mock-glare, and they're both grinning as Max swings her backpack over her shoulder and they rise from the bed.

“I don't think I've ever been this prepared for a test in my life,” Max says quietly as they walk out into the hall, because she wants to make Jane laugh one last time before she leaves, but doesn't want Chief Hopper to think she's more of a degenerate than he already seems to.

Jane does laugh, head tilting back as she scratches at the top of her neck where her hair stops. Her curls seem to grow upwards without the weight of the gel, and Max can't help but watch them shake with her movements as they walk. “Yes, I think we are as prepared as we can be. Thank you again for studying with me.”

Max smiles at her feet, shoving her hands into her pockets so that Jane won't see them ball into nervous fists. “Well, it helped me a lot, so it wasn't exactly selfless.”

The only reason she doesn't stumble under the power of Jane's answering grin is because she's watching her feet. “Good. I – oh!” She stops abruptly, and Max looks up in confusion as she whips around, shuffling a bit as her socks slide over the floor. “I forgot. Wait.” She takes off down the hall again without another word, and Max accidentally makes bewildered eye contact with Hopper in the kitchenette before Jane comes barrelling down the hall again, face shining.

“Here.” She puts a cassette in a clear case into Max's hand, teeth digging into one of the dark indentations on her naked lip. The tape is worn and generic,  _Lunachicks_  scribbled across the masking tape half-curling off the casing with age, and Max swallows a smile at how obviously bootlegged and illegal this copy is. “You can borrow it. If you like it I have more girl groups.”

“Thanks, Jane,” Max says softly. She's weirdly touched by Jane sharing her music with her, like she's taking a part of Jane home with her, and she clears her throat and shoves the cassette into her backpack to avoid Jane's eyes. “I'll listen to it tonight.”

“Bitchin',” Jane says, and it's Max's turn to bite her lip, fighting down a dopey grin. “See you, Max.”

“Yeah, good night,” Max says. She smiles at Jane, gripping the straps of her backpack, and then turns on her heel and walks out the door on her shaky knees.

Max forces herself to wait until she's lying in bed with her walk-man and headphones to listen to Jane's tape, one hand over her eyes as she presses play, and her eyelids burn as she watches whole new universes form and burst with the heady, powerful, layered music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavenly body hur hur hur  
> I'm so grateful for the kudos and comments and birthday wishes, they encourage me to keep writing!!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof okay the only reason I'm posting this is because I've been drinkin and there's wifi at this party and my gf is a bad influence. This is part one of this chapter, part two should be up tomorrow but don't be surprised if I take this down tomorrow out of embarrassment alyshgshdbjol
> 
> SErious warning for abuse!!! It's not near as bad as the show but know this is the hurt part of hurt/comfort and my girls will be happy but they trust and protect eacj other okay

It was almost comforting, Max muses as she pushes the changing-room doors open and sees Lucas and Dustin already locked in a heated argument, how there were certain things in life she could count on to never change.

Lucas lights up when he catches sight of her. “Thank fucking god, a reasonable person. Max, solve this debate for us.”

“You're both pretty,” Max says absently, falling into step with them as they start down the hallway. She's still riding high on smudged eyeliner and husky laughs, and she doesn't even have the presence of mind to pretend to be irritated at her friends's bickering.

Dustin grins widely, opening his mouth to roll his obnoxious Chewbacca purr around the back of his throat. Lucas rolls his eyes, reaching around Max to punch Dustin on the shoulder before turning to her with a frown. “Har, har. What would be worse, being stuck in a snowed-in cabin in the middle of the forest or being stuck on an oasis in the middle of a desert with wind storms?”

Max grins. “Oh man, is the magic gone already? You nerds really have nothing else to talk about anymore?”

“It's a very important distinction,” Dustin says, jabbing his finger into the air in front of them emphatically as his steps speed up slightly in his excitement. “You need different survival strategies for each one, but there's a very obvious answer to which would be easier to last -”

“If it's so obvious, shut up and let her pick,” Lucas snaps. “Which would you rather, MadMax?”

Max taps her lip, considering. “The oasis.”

“What?” Dustin shrieks, while Lucas throws up his hands and cries, “Thank you!”

“Favoritism!” Dustin accuses, pointing a finger between them. “This was not sufficiently scientifically objective!”

“She didn't know the oasis was mine!” Lucas argues. “She just has a brain -”

“The cabin has shelter!” Dustin says, counting off the fingers of one hand against his palm. “The desert has _wind storms_! The first rule of survival, survival 101, is find shelter -”

“Then survival 100 is making shelter,” Lucas says irritably. “You can build a lean-to with stuff in the oasis against the wind and sand, and then you have water and whatever plants are growing to eat -”

“The cabin has snow,” Dustin interrupts, rolling his eyes like he can't believe what he's dealing with. “You melt the snow for water in your cabin, your _ready-made shelter_ -”

“You can't get out of the cabin, that's what snowed-in means!” Lucas exclaims, leaning across Max to stare at Dustin in disbelief. “You're stuck in a building with none of the amenities, no heat, no power, no plumbing -”

“How do you know it doesn't have any of that?” Dustin says, swinging around to walk backwards in front of Max so that he can glare at Lucas without obstacle. “We just said cabin, most places built after, like, the eighteen-fifties would have those things, definitely more than an oasis with nothing -”

“Snowed! In!” Lucas cries, jerking his hands in front of himself with each word. “I don't know if you notice every winter but heavy snow cuts the power off, nothing would be working in a snowed-in cabin in the woods! You'd be trapped and freeze to death!”

“That's conjecture, just because there's snow doesn't mean -”

He's cut off by Max's name echoing through the hallway over the loudspeaker. They all pause, ignoring the grumbling of the students behind them as they come to an abrupt standstill, and Max and Lucas frown at each other as they listen to the secretary's voice repeat the summons for Max to the front office.

“Did you get another detention?” Dustin says. “My mom needs me home tonight to help clip Tew's claws, I need to call her if I don't have a ride.”

“You're going to be late for class,” Lucas says, frowning concernedly as Max rolls her eyes at Dustin. “Did you have a doctor's appointment or something?”

“No,” Max says slowly, chewing her thumbnail as she tries to think of what she could have done to get called to the office. Her mind, unhelpfully, jumps to serious brown eyes and fingerless gloves stretching over balled fists, but there's no reason they would call Max to the office if Jane got into another fight. “You guys go ahead,” she says, stepping backwards and waving them off when they opens their mouths to protest. “I probably just have to go pick something up, I'll meet you guys in class.”

“You sure?” Lucas says, hesitating even as irritable students stream around him, bumping his shoulder as he holds up traffic.

“Yes, stalker,” Max says with an eyeroll to make him feel better, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she begins moving backwards through the crowd of students. “Walking through two whole hallways by myself may seem like an insurmountable obstacle, but this is the moment we've been training for.”

Lucas grins and flips her off, and he and Dustin wave as they weave into the mass of students. Max turns and joins the stream headed in the opposite direction, smiling a little bit even as she wonders idly what they could need her in the office for. She hasn't done anything that she can think of which would have earned her a detention or visit with the principal, so she lets her mind drift to how she can compose this into a funny story for a certain punk class-mate as she makes her way towards the front office.

When she sees what is waiting for her through the window on the office doors she curses herself for ever letting herself forget that she should never wish for things to stay the same.

She seriously considers turning around and going to class, or running out the front doors, but the secretary catches sight of her and smiles, waving her in. Reluctantly, she pushes through the door, jaw set as she lets her long hair hang in front of her eyes. "I was called over the P.A.," she mumbles.

"Now, Maxine," Billy says, that slimy smile which still makes her stomach ice over in his voice, "be polite and look the nice lady in the eye."

Max shoves her hands into her sweater pockets and raises her head, meeting her step-brother's eyes defiantly. He still has that stupid goatee, little mustache twisting with his seedy smirk as he leans over the front desk. The receptionist titters, plump cheeks pink as she flips through a file on her desk and not-so-subtly eyes Billy appreciatively out of the corner of her eye. Billy has never shied away from showing his true colours in front of most people, but for some reason he had a strange power over middle-aged women when he wanted to - Mrs. Wheeler still asks after her "Delightful step-brother" while Mike mimed puking behind her - and apparently he'd turned his dubious charm onto the woman behind the front desk.

"Good news, Maxine," the receptionist trills, ignoring the ringing phone beside her as she she beams at Billy. "Your brother has signed you out for the rest of the day!"

Max's stomach drops. "B-But he's not my parent," she blurts out stupidly. She takes a step backwards without meaning to, heart pounding painfully in her chest. All the time and energy and stubborn resolve she's put into bettering herself since the last time she saw her step-brother, and one smirk from him and she's thirteen and helpless again.

The receptionist's expression falls a bit, peering at Max over her reading glasses. "Well, no, dear, but he is an adult and related to you, and he's just so excited to spend some time with you that he can't wait until after school!" She smiles up at Billy like she's never seen such a good big brother in her life, all pretense of working abandoned as she sets her file down to fold her hands beneath her chin dreamily.

Max shakes her head, gripping the straps of her backpack so hard her fingers ache. "No, I - I have a test next period, it's worth a lot of my grade -"

"You're already signed out, dear," the receptionist says, frowning like she would give anything to be the one Billy was signing out. "They'll let you take the test tomorrow if you have a legitimate excuse."

"But I studied - Let me call my mom," Max says in a rush, seized suddenly by a desperate idea. "She'll want to know when I'm coming home and where -"

"You heard the lovely lady, Maxine," Billy says, straightening from his slouch over the desk. He turns his back on the receptionist and starts towards her, a warning in his eyes. "You get to spend the day with your favourite step-brother, be excited. The adults took care of everything. Thanks, Shirley," he adds over his shoulder, not stopping his steps when he invades Max's space and forces her to take another step backwards.

"Oh, any time, Mr. Hargrove," the receptionist - Shirley - sighs as Max plants her feet and glares up at Billy, jaw clenched.

"I may take you up on that," Billy says with a wink, and Shirley is giggling so loudly she doesn't hear Max's gasp as Billy wraps an arm around her shoulders and pushes her out of the office.

Max throws him off as soon as they are through the door, scowling. “What the fuck do you think you're doing, Billy?”

Billy grabs her bicep and pulls her forward, yanking her off-balance. Her mop of hair flies around her face, and by the time she's walking under her own power and found her way out of her hair he has dragged her half-way down the hallway towards the front doors. Panic grips her heart as tightly as he grips her arm, and she flails and beats her free hand against his shoulder, digging her heels into the slippery tile floor ineffectively.

“Always such a brat,” Billy says, pushing her forward so that she loses her balance and stops hitting him. “Does Dad like that about you, Max? That you're a brat? Is that why he continues to let you and your whore mom leech off him and ruin our lives?”

“Die in a fire, Billy,” Max snarls, digging her blunt fingernails into his skin as she tries to peel his fingers off of her. He's in one of his rages, the ones where he breaks more than her skateboard, and she's suddenly fervently glad that she didn't let Lucas walk her to the office. “Eat shit and drown in it, you pathetic, whiny, waste of a human being -”

Billy pushes open the door and throws her through, the latch rattling violently as it slams behind him. She stumbles down a few of the front steps, disoriented, then realizes he's let to of her arm and turns to flee. Before she can make it down the steps he grabs her around the waist, lifting her off her feet as her legs flail in her air.

“Big words for such a small girl,” he hisses into her ear. “It's been so long, I think you need another lesson, Max, you've clearly forgot what I spent so long teaching you.”

“Get off me, you piece of shit!” Max cries, kicking her legs and trying to elbow him behind her. “I didn't do shit to you, it's not my fault you're a fucking -”

“Oh, but you did, Max,” Billy yells, half-carrying her over the lawn as she struggles. “It's all your fault, don't you remember saying it over and over? When we were in -”

A hoarse, wordless scream bursts in the air, and it takes Max a dizzy moment to realize it's not from her. She feels a tug at her navel, like a magnet is jerking her to the side, and Billy goes flying across the lawn. Shaking so hard she can barely stand, Max locks her knees to keep herself upright and hastily pulls the hair out of her face, jaw dropping at what she finds.

Jane is standing over Billy with her back to Max, shoulders tensed in her leather jacket as her fists clench and unclench in pure rage. She's radiating so much fury, such raw power, that to Max's panic-riddled mind she looks like she's stepped out of the page of a comic book, lines of energy practically pouring from her tense body. One dirty white converse is pressing Billy's heaving chest into the ground, and Max watches, mesmerized, as she rolls one shoulder slowly, as if considering whether she is going to throw a punch.

“You crazy bitch!” Billy is screaming, bleeding down half of his face, although Max can't tell where it's coming from. “You broke my jaw!”

“Touch her again and I will break more,” Jane growls, leaning her weight onto the foot on his chest as she raises her fists in front of her.

“Jane?” Max gasps, bewildered. Her chest is so tight she can barely breathe, and she wonders a bit hysterically if this is a hallucination she's having as she suffocates.

Jane turns to look at her over her shoulder, fists hesitating. A trickle of blood stains her nostril and upper lip, and Max thinks, concerned, that Billy had _hurt_ her before her knees give out and she sinks onto the grass.

She can't hear what Jane is saying to Billy over her own wheezing, the other girl's voice distorted and far away like Max is underwater, and she jumps when black leather lapels suddenly appear in her hazy line of vision as Jane kneels in front of her. Her fingers curl around clumps of grass as she stares at letters she can't recognize on Jane's shirt peeking out from her jacket, and she can only make a strangled noise in her throat as she tries to force herself to talk – _I'm sorry, Where's Billy, Are you hurt, Don't let him find Lucas_ -

“No, don't talk,” Jane says in almost a sing-song, her voice more gentle than Max has ever heard it. “Just breathe. Only breathing now. Slow in, slower out. You can do it.”

Max can't, though, she doesn't seem to remember _how_ to breathe, and she works her mouth frantically to try to tell Jane, but she can only make a whining sound. Jane puts a hesitant hand on her shoulder, and she feels the warmth through her sweater. “It's okay, Max. It's just you and me. Only Eh – Jane, and all you have to do for me is breathe. That's all you're responsible for right now, okay? Slow breath out, great. Breathe in through your nose, good. That's it, keep focusing on your one job, you got it now.”

Max squeezes her eyes shut, blocking out everything except Jane's soothing voice, and the ache in her chest starts to ease as she breathes. As she calms the world starts to filter back into her senses, and she keeps her eyes closed, unable to face Jane as the past ten minutes play through her exhausted mind like a movie. As she winces when the pain in her arm where Billy had grabbed her comes rushing back, she's horrified to feel tears on her eyelashes, and she falls onto her backside, hiding her face with her arm as she wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater hastily.

Max jumps when a strong arm wraps around her shoulders. Gently, Jane helps her to her feet and leads her across the lawn, and Max lets her, keeping her arm over her face and trying to ignore the cold humiliation sitting in the pit of her stomach. Still silent, Jane tugs the sleeve of her sweater and eases her downwards; Max still can't quite make herself look up, but when she finally takes her arm away from her eyes and sees old cigarette butts littered around their feet she assumes they are sitting behind the gym.

Jane takes her arm away, and a small part of her not petrified with anxiety and humiliation thinks, snidely, that she must be pretty messed up if Jane Hopper touching her didn't send her spiraling. She shakes and folds her arms over her knees, letting her long hair fall in a curtain around her blushing face and she takes a deep breath and croaks, "Is he - Is he gone?"

"Yes," Jane says quietly. "He rode away on a motorcycle. I told him to leave town."

The ghost of a smile plays across Max's lips as she pictures skinny little Jane ordering Billy out of town, but considering the awe-inspiring display when she had him pinned him to the ground Max could almost believe he'd listen to her. She nods, but her throat closes up again and she shuffles her feet restlessly, not trusting herself to say anything more.

Jane hesitates a beat, and then says, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Max shakes her head, hair flying. She's not panicking any more, not like before, but she still feels so weak she's surprised she can sit upright, and the sick feeling filling her stomach seems to be creeping up her throat like vomit. Of all people she doesn't think she can bear to see the pity in Jane's eyes, and she keeps her eyes on her knee as it bounces so violently her whole body shakes.

Wordlessly, Jane holds out a cigarette and black lighter. Max's leg stops shaking as she stares, but she only pauses for a moment before snatching them out of Jane's fingers, suddenly reckless. She's never smoked tobacco before, never particularly wanted to, but she wants it now, the secret that keeps people coming back to the foul cloud of smoke which seems to shield them from the stress of the world at least until they reach the butt of the cigarette. Fumbling, she realizes she doesn't actually know how to smoke, lining up the end of the cigarette with the flame while keeping the lighter on much harder than it looks especially with her shaking hands, and she's taking a deep breath of frustration, hoping against hope Jane isn't watching, when the end finally lights up and her lungs fill with smoke.

It tastes even worse than it smells. She lurches forward, coughing so hard her eyes fill with tears again as she clutches her chest with the hand not holding the cigarette. Gasping for air, she pounds her sternum and swears breathlessly, and she can't even be annoyed when Jane snickers quietly beside her. Finally drawing in a breath that doesn't make her lungs collapse in on themselves, she parts her knees and leans forward to spit, and she must be so far past humiliation that nothing can touch her any more when she laughs hoarsely at Jane's little groan of disgust.

"Oh, yeah,  _that's_ what's gross," she mutters, wiping her mouth on her sleeve as she leans back, and Jane laughs outright. Max passes her the still-lit cigarette between two fingers, still not looking at her even as a small smile tugs at her lips at the sound of Jane's laughter, and Jane takes it back. "Jesus Christ, how do you do that to yourself every day?"

"You get used to it," Jane says with a smile in her voice. Max hears her inhale and coughs a bit sympathetically, making a face. "Not a smoker?"

"Never a smoker," Max says emphatically, and coughs again, grinning at Jane's snicker. Although she doubts she got the full effect of the drug, trying a cigarette seems to have broken the tension twisting in her chest, and she only feels the wild, nervous energy her fight-or-flight response gives her whenever her step-dad comes home. She leans backwards, letting her frizzing red waves tumble down her back and brush the curb as tilts her head back and closes her eyes, knee picking up its bouncing again. "You ditching?"

"No," Jane says. "Biology was cancelled. If I ditch I get suspended, because of my detentions."

Max pulls a face. "Even just once? That blows."

"If you step one toe out of line," Jane says an a comically-lowered voice, jabbing the two fingers holding her cigarette into the air in front of her like she's directing traffic. She's so bad at impressions Max has no idea who she's mocking, but that somehow made it more endearing and Max laughs so hard her body shakes with it, surprising both of them. Laughing feels so good, the residual aching of her body seeming to seep out of her pores as she cackles longer than Jane's comment calls for, and she tilts her head backwards, arching her spine as she lets the wild, careless energy crackle through her. Jane snickers beside her, a bit uncertainly, and Max lifts her eyes to the other girl's without thinking. There's no pity or awkwardness in her expression, amusement lighting her eyes and quirking up one side of her lips, and she's so dangerously beautiful Max basks in her, letting the familiar rush of warning twist through her belly and revelling in it instead of shying away like she usually does. Reckless, she pushes herself up by the heels of her hands, keeping her mischievous eyes locked with Jane's tractor-beams. “But you have the rest of the period off?”

Jane raises an eyebrow at her, smirking devastatingly. “Yes?”

Max grins. “Want to get out of here?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ima try and answer comments from last chapter but if not tonight romorrow for sure, don't go to parties on school nights yall<3


	9. Chapter 9

Hair whipping in the wind as wildly as she felt inside, Max glides slowly in front of the bumper of her car. “So do you just keep your whole music library in your bag in case somebody invites you somewhere with a stereo, or...?”

Jane grins at her around the hand holding her cigarette to her mouth. She's perched on the hood of Max's car, knees spread as she props the toes of her converse on the bumper carelessly, watching Max ride her skateboard around in circles. They'd parked on Mirkwood after driving around aimlessly for awhile, Max realizing too late that she hadn't actually had a destination in mind except for  _away_ , and Jane had scoffed at her radio station after listening for about five seconds and fished out at least fourteen cassette tapes from the bottom of her backpack. Complicated guitar riffs and booming drumbeats were pouring out from the car stereo through the rolled-down windows, and Max swallows a smile at Jane's little nods to the beat as she raises an eyebrow, challenging.

“That's not all of my music,” Jane says smugly, and then takes a long drag of her cigarette.

Max laughs, turning away reluctantly only when her skateboard curves so much she's almost thrown off-balance. “Damn, how many punk-rock girl groups can there possibly be?”

“They're not all girls,” Jane says. “But lots.”

“That's awesome. If they're as good as the Lunachicks then music is set.” Max tosses her hair and pops her skateboard, heart pounding as she leans into the tilt. She usually tries to avoid physical activity more complicated than walking around Jane, but skateboarding had gotten her through everything from her parent's divorce to Billy and her step-father, and she feels more at home on her board than she does on her feet. As she sails past Jane with a two-finger salute and the other girl smirks so destructively it should have made her knees dissolve, she wonders only half-facetiously if she can find a reason to skateboard in all of her classes for the rest of the year so that she stops destroying school property whenever Jane smiles at her.

“There's lots more like them,” Jane says, scratching the back of her neck idly as she watches Max's feet with interest. “I can lend you some if you want.”

“Yeah? Thanks, Jane, that would be amazing.” Max hastily tries to distract the other girl from her eagerness with a complicated spin, the giddiness rushing through her body not entirely from the trick as Jane's breath catches. So maybe she also took out her skateboard to show off a little bit. “Who's this playing?”

“The 5.6.7.8.s,” Jane says. “They do a lot of different kinds of music. Most songs on this album sound like they're by different groups.”

“That's pretty cool,” Max says, lamely. Jane seems to be knowledgeable and passionate about music, while Max doesn't really think too much about what she liked to listen to beyond that she enjoyed it. “Pretty creative, coming up with new sounds all the time,” she adds, just to sound a bit less stupid.

“Yes,” Jane agrees, and her smile makes Max's chest burn. “I'm surprised you don't listen to this, skateboarding is pretty punk.” She sucks in her cheeks as she inhales from her smoke, quirking an eyebrow, and even Max's skateboard can't save her from this deadly combination as she slides too far forward on shaky legs and the board see-saws ominously.

Quickly, she distributes her weight and sends the board crashing back to the ground, dropping one foot to propel herself forward as if that's what she'd meant to do the whole time. She flashes Jane a grin as she skates by the car, grimacing at herself only when the trajectory of the board turns her back on the other girl. “I guess. Not a huge punk scene in Hawkins, though, as I'm sure you can tell.”

“No,” Jane laughs.

“So if skateboarding is so punk, does that mean you board?” Max asks with interest, watching the other girl out of the corner of her eye as she pushes her board into figure-eights. She has a sudden vision of skateboarding side-by-side through town with Jane, and almost falls off her board again.

“No,” Jane says, balancing her elbow on her thigh as she flicks her cigarette with her thumb absently. With the heavy music playing behind her she looks like she's in a music video, and Max's hair sticks to her sweaty palms as she runs them over the tresses shakily. “We never had skateboards, so I never learned.”

“No?” Max pops the board impressively and slides one foot off to stop, grinning at Jane a little mischievously. “Want to?”

Jane's face lights up with interest, but she takes another long drag of her cigarette and doesn't answer right away. Her eyes fall from Max to the board uncertainly, and Max's heart throws itself against her ribcage as she realizes that intimidating, fearless Jane Hopper is nervous about  _skateboarding_.

She swallows a laugh so that Jane won't think she's making fun of her; she's still buzzing with chaotic energy from the fight, and Jane, sitting on the hood of her car burning brighter than the clear October sky, only makes her feel more intoxicated. "Don't worry, I only make it look incredibly  impressive and hard," she says, propping one foot on the board and nodding her head downwards invitingly.

Jane snickers, eyes flickering from the skateboard to Max to the skateboard again before she slowly starts to slide her backside off the front of the car. She takes a deep drag of the last of her cigarette as she lands flat-footed in front of the bumper and then flicks it away into the woods, and Max is at her mercy again without the protection of the skateboard as she starts to pad over in what feels like slow motion, biting her lower lip as their eyes lock.

"You've already got the soundtrack going, you're halfway to a movie training montage," Max says, stupidly, because she feels like if she doesn't say something she's going to burst into flames. Jane grins, her front teeth still digging into her lower lip as she spares Max an amused glance before peering down at the skateboard curiously. She smells overpoweringly like cigarettes, and although Max never wants that toxic burn in her lungs again she's dizzily gripped by the urge to take up smoking so that she can have this smell with her all the time. She's close to Max, closer than she's ever been, and worn leather, flowery soap, and a unique, subtly earthy scent that has to be all Jane mingles in her senses and makes her feel more intoxicated than any drink ever has. Her gaze falls to Jane's lips, matte lipstick worn away where her cigarette had been, and she watches dazedly as Jane murmurs, "What do I do?"

"Hmm?" It takes Max another long, drunken moment of watching Jane's lips moving before she processes the words. "Oh! Jesus." She stumbles backwards, thighs shaking so hard she's worried for a giddy second they won't keep her upright, and winces when the tip of the skateboard bounces against her heel. "Yeah, you might need that," she mumbles, nudging the skateboard towards Jane with her foot without looking at the other girl.

Jane doesn't laugh, but Max can feel her gaze, more curious than the redhead would have liked, and Max lets her long hair fall over her flaming face as she watches Jane's white converse climb onto the board. Max keeps her eyes on the skateboard, grateful she's refused to cut her impractically-long hair all these years as it hides the infatuated smile she can't quite help as Jane shuffles on the board and then gasps as it rolls.

"Yeah, it's pretty sensitive," she says, clearing her throat when he voice comes out thickly. "Skateboarding's all about balance, so as long as you know where to stand you can make it do whatever you want, really. Um." She clears her throat again and shoves her hands into her pockets, everything she knows about skateboarding suddenly flying out of her head as she stares too hard at the little star stitched into Jane's ankle sock. "Stopping and starting is one foot down on the ground, otherwise both on the board at all times. Holding your arms out can help with balance when you're learning, but you're going to see pretty quickly that it's mostly about core strength. And leaning... Obviously." She closes her eyes, wondering where the reckless bravado had disappeared to when she needed it.

"Is this how I stand?" Jane asks, leaning her weight back and forth between the balls and heels of her feet.

"Um, almost. Spread your leh - feet, separate your feet a bit more." If she'd been blushing before she's on fire now, face brighter than her hair as she watches Jane's converse slide further apart carefully. "Yeah, just like that," she says hoarsely, and then shoves her hands further into her pockets to stop from punching herself in the face.  _Get it together, Mayfield._

Jane bounces a little bit on the board. "How do I turn?"

"Mostly leaning, but let's worry about going forward first. Remember how it feels to be balanced on the board like this, you're going to be in this position when you're moving. Push off the ground with your dominant foot, and you're good to go."

Jane lowers her right foot to the ground slowly, like she's going to take off at a hundred miles an hour as soon as her foot touches the pavement, and nudges forward with her toe. The board barely drifts forward, but Jane's arms windmill so wildly she almost fulfills Max's earlier wish for a punch in the face and she gasps, slamming her foot down on the ground immediately. The skateboard keeps rolling and she stumbles, sticking her arms out at her sides like a scarecrow as she finds her equalibrium on solid ground again.

Max grins, shoving her hands she'd half-raised to catch Jane back into her pockets before the other girl sees them. It's a bit unfair how Jane can be both intimidatingly cool and an awkwardly adorable at the same time, and Max's stomach glows as she watches Jane scowl around the protective curtain of her hair. "You've got stopping down," she offers, and can't help the little snicker which escapes when Jane frowns at her.

She pads around the skateboard, trying to change her grin from infatuated to encouraging as she meets Jane's frustrated eyes with her own. "The first time I got on a skateboard," she confides, lowering her voice like she's sharing a dark secret, "I wiped out so hard one of my front teeth went through my bottom lip."

Jane's eyes widen. "Really?"

Max tilts her head back, tapping the little white scar underneath her lip. It's so small she doubts Jane can see anything, but big brown eyes follow her finger with interest. "Punk is dangerous," she says seriously, and glows when Jane finally laughs, although she can't tell if the punk girl remembers the phrase from their conversation in the gym. "But you won't get _that_  injured, because you're not trying to prove a bunch of shithead ten-year-old boys wrong. It takes a bit of getting used to, but once you get the feel for it it's a lot less scary. Want to try again?"

Jane nods, smiling, and Max feels like she should be the one windmilling her arms as the brightness dazzles her. She ducks her head under the pretense of checking Jane's feet, subtly wiping her sweaty palms on the lining of her pants pockets when she slips them back inside. She gives Jane the go-ahead and Jane narrows her eyes as she pushes off again, squaring her shoulders like she's preparing for battle. She wobbles on the board but manages to stay upright this time, placing her feet carefully in the exact position she'd started and freezing as the board rattles slowly over the pavement. She's going slower than if she'd been walking, but she glances at Max triumphantly as the redhead pads alongside the skateboard, careful not to turn her head an inch, and Max can't help her dopey grin.

"That's great, Jane," Max says, and it is; she'd taken weeks to stay on her skateboard this long, although she'd been younger and much more impatient than Jane. "No stitches for you, apparently." Jane snickers and the board shakes ominously, trailing a bit off-course as Jane's stance relaxes. Jane's eyes widen, and she clenches her jaw as she glares down the street in concentration. "Sorry, I'll let you focus. Just adjust your - Hey, you got it, good job."

Jane sails over the pavement beside her like she'd never stumbled, allowing herself a small, lop-sided smile, although she keeps her limbs frozen in their careful position. She sniffs, and Max's stomach sinks as she watches a trail of blood trickle down and collect on the top curve of her lip. The real reason Jane was hanging out with her at all comes back to her in a rush, extinguishing the distracting flames from their afternoon together in one cold, sobering wave.

"My step-brother got you, huh?" she says softly.

Jane glances at her, confused, and then she sees what Max is looking at and her eyes soften. She slides a foot off the board and leans her weight on the leg balanced on the ground, lifting her arm to wipe her nose with the black handkerchief around her wrist. "No, I get nosebleeds sometimes," she says.

Max rolls her eyes, hunching her shoulders as she takes a shuffling step backwards. "You don't have to lie. I know what he's like, I'm sorry he's such a -"

"Fuckwad?" Jane says softly.

Max can't help but laugh, even though Jane being hurt and trying to make _her_  feel better makes her so guilty she feels bile crawling up the back of her throat. "Yeah, and then some. He's crazy, I'm so, so sorry he hurt you."

"Max," Jane says, but Max can't bear to see the look on her face and ducks her head, blowing her long hair out of her mouth with a puff. "He's crazy, not you. It's not your fault if he hurts other people, and he should never,  _ever_  hurt you."

The finality in her voice, like she knows exactly what she's talking about, makes Max look up, although she still can only meet Jane's eyes through the curtain of her hair. She tries to smile, but from Jane's big, concerned eyes she's pretty sure she's just grimacing. "Yeah, well, whether or not he should, other people still get hurt," she says shakily.

Jane shakes her head slowly. "He has done this before?"

"Lucas," Max blurts out without meaning to. She's not entirely sure she wants to talk about this, especially with Jane, but she finds she can't help herself now that she's started; she's never had anyone to talk about it with before, since she doesn't exactly want to bring up a memory with the boys that was just as traumatizing for her friends as if was for her. "He's - He went after me a lot, when I was a kid, but I've never seen him so violent before he found out about Lucas."

Jane's face closes off, and even through her anxiety Max sees galaxies of power swirling dangerously in her beautiful eyes. "I should have killed him," she growls.

In that moment, watching her seethe, Max believes she  _would_  have been capable of murder. "Well, you would have been doing the world a favor, don't get me wrong, but I'm kind of glad you didn't, since you would have gotten more than suspended," Max says, smiling a bit uncertainly even as the hair on her arms raises from the electricity crackling around the other girl.

Jane relaxes a bit, slipping her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket as she gives Max a small smile. There's still a stain under her nose from the blood, which doesn't help her look less terrifying. "Maybe," she says. "Still not your problem."

Max laughs, the weight in her chest lifting just slightly. "It is my problem," she teases, kicking her foot shyly, "who else is going to save my ass when I'm cramming for a chemistry test?"

Jane grins, and Max is too weak to do anything except let herself burn up in it. "You saved me for the chemistry test," she points out, eyeing Max shrewdly. "So we're even."

Max covers her face with her sweaty palms, barking out an incredulous laugh. "Oh, yeah, that's equivalent," she says, and Jane snickers.

"Hey," Jane says softly. Max braves moving her hands away from her face to see Jane smiling softly at her, fly-away hairs escaping from her hair gel in the wind as she tilts her head slightly. All that power, the disproportionate strength she'd displayed taking on Billy and the rage behind her eyes and the punk look which made all of Hawkins quake in their boots, and her smile was like a peaceful California sunrise as she looks at Max with earnest eyes. "I understand, but nothing Billy does is your fault," she says quietly. "Lucas is still your friend, and so am I."

Max's heart balloons so much at Jane saying they're friends that her chest aches, like  the muscle no longer fits in her ribcage. She looks down at her feet, white spots dancing in her vision like she'd been staring directly into the sun, and she doesn't even try to stop the goofy smile on her lips. "I guess," she says, and clears her throat. "He's never been scared of one my friends before, so that will come in handy. Hopefully he's off being a fuckwad out of town now."

Jane's eyebrows furrow, and she eyes Max for a moment before she kicks the skateboard towards her gently. Max steps onto it immediately and takes off, wondering again if Jane can read minds. "Will he be at your house?" Jane asks, biting her lip.

"Oh, no," Max says, whipping the skateboard around to meet Jane's eyes reassuringly. "My step-dad kicked him out a few years ago - not because he's the world's biggest shithead, of course, because he was 'lazing around' and needed to 'become a man.'" She rolls her eyes as she makes air quotes, feeling more like herself as she glides by Jane and picks up speed.

Jane frowns, but her eyes are laughing as she turns slowly in a circle to follow Max's trajectory. "Men."

Max tosses her head and laughs, bending her knees a bit as she tilts the board upwards and swivels her hips to change direction. "You said it." She slows as she approaches the other girl, forcing herself to not hide behind her hair as she tries to find words for the warm glow in her chest. "Thanks, Jane. Seriously. You were really bad-ass, both with Billy and... here." She gestures around then vaguely, blushing to the roots of her hair.

"You're welcome," Jane smiles. "Thank you for the skateboard lesson."

Max grins. "Any time. You're way better than I was when I first started, you're going to be doing cooler tricks than I can in no time."

Jane smirks and opens her mouth to answer, but her head tilts as the music ends with a glorious crash of drums and her eyes widen with panic. "Is the tape over? What time is it?"

Max glances down at her watch. "Shit, we have chemistry in ten minutes. Better start heading back." She tries to keep the disappointment out of her voice as she steps heavily from the skateboard and tips it up into her hand.

Jane watches her, eyes cautious. "I have to go back. But you don't, if you feel like it. Are you okay?"

Max looks at her, smiling, and she's being completely honest when she says, "Yeah, I'm okay now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm embarrassed!!!  
> Sorry about yesterday, I hope you enjoy the fluff. Look, they're friends! It only took nine chapters!!!


	10. Chapter 10

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Max huffs out a breath and frowns as it crystalizes in the air in front of her. "This is inhumane," she complains loudly.

Lucas rolls his eyes even as he pulls her closer to his body with the arm vigorously rubbing her shoulder. "You can survive five minutes in the Indiana fall, Max."

"You don't know that," Max says, voice muffled as she turns towards him and buries her face in his shoulder to leech his body heat. "I could be dying right now. It feels like I'm dying."

"You've literally survived four winters in Hawkins," Lucas says. "It's only, like, forty degrees, you do this every - Jesus!" He jumps as Max's cold hands sneak under his jacket to poke his belly. "Fucking hell, Max, your hands are like ice!"

"It's only forty degrees," Max says mockingly into his chest, and the rest of the party laughs.

The entire grade is gathered outside of the school in a loud, teeming mob, waiting to be let onto the buses for their annual field trip to the science museum. They haven't, realistically, been waiting for too long, but the late-October temperatures make each second in the cold morning air feel like an eternity, and Max had had enough of the freezing weather the minute she had stepped out of her car. She'd never quite adjusted to the colder seasons in Hawkins since moving from California, and although she knows Lucas is right she can't imagine ever being colder than this. "Why can't they ever get their shit together and let us wait on the buses," she mutters into Lucas's collar, and she feels his snort vibrate through his chest.

"Jane!" Mike calls out, and Max has to make a conscious effort to not turn away from Lucas, although she does have to pinch him when he feels her freezes against him and he stops rubbing her back in confusion. "Jane, over here!"

"Hi, Mike," that low, husky voice says from behind Max, and her cheeks are suddenly warm enough that she feels like she can brave the icy winds and turns her face away from Lucas's chest, meeting concerned brown eyes. "Max, are you okay?"

"Just dying of hypothermia," Max mumbles, one cheek still pressed against her best friend's sternum as she smiles reassuringly at the other girl. "Hey, Jane."

"Hypothermia?" Jane repeats, eyebrows pinched with confusion.

"She's just a huge baby about the cold," Lucas says, hips dancing away from Max's cold fingers as she tries to poke him again. "Hey, I don't think we've officially met. I'm Lucas." He stretches out the hand not rubbing Max's back, a smile in his voice.

Lucas, taking his role of cautious strategist protecting the party against any suspicious traps or characters very seriously even in real life, had been wary over the past few months of his friends's growing attachment to the seemingly-violent, mysterious new girl. This had disappeared the instant Max had told him about Jane saving her from Billy. Nothing endeared someone to Lucas like caring about Max, and fighting the man who had not only tortured her for years but targeted Lucas himself in ways Max knew still haunted him to this day made Lucas dismiss every worry he'd had about the trouble which seemed to follow Jane Hopper like a shadow, as simple as if flicking a switch. Max smiles against his chest, now, as their bodies jiggle a bit at the force of the handshake between her two friends.

"Lucas," Jane says with a smile in her voice. "Max talks about you a lot."

"Does she?" Lucas says, ducking his head to look down at Max with a cocked eyebrow.

Max pokes her chin into his chest as she tilts her head up to meet his gaze, shaking her head a bit with mock-serious eyes. "All bad things, she's terrified of you," she stage-whispers, and Lucas's fingers are the ones trying to find their way under her coat to tickle this time as their friends laugh around them.

"I'm Dustin, and this is Will," Dustin says, enthusiastically pumping Jane's arm as soon as Lucas takes his away to attack Max. "I think we have geology together? With Kenderick? Did you see the bullshit sheet we have to fill out?"

"Yes," Jane says, and her frown is so adorable Lucas gets both of his hands on either side of Max's ribs to tickle mercilessly because of how distracted she is. "It's twice as long as any other class."

"I knoooow," Dustin groans, head rolling back dramatically. To prevent them from sitting in the lobby and not actually exploring any of the scientific displays in the museum, each science teacher had given their class a worksheet to fill out with questions from that class's branch of science. Mr. Kenderick was famous for making the most complicated, intensive worksheets, and although Dustin is the most theatrical person Max knows she's sure this is the one time he's not overreacting.

Jane smiles at him, but any answer she might have had is interrupted by the piercing ringing of a hand-bell. They all turn towards the pick-up circle, where Mrs. Parker is standing on an overturned crate to be seen above the crowd, waggling the bell delicately with a deep frown on her face. "All right, seniors," she shouts when the mass of students have finally turned towards her. "Head towards the buses in an orderly fashion. Only two students per seat; if there is not room for you to sit with your friends without exceeding the maximum number of butts in seats you are to move to another bus. We  _will_  be checking. Field trip partners are posted on a list outside all buses. You do not need to ride with your partners, but you will pair up once we reach the museum, and you will stay together for the entirety of the museum trip. Swapping partners is prohibited. Stay safe, and have fun." She glares around at the crowd of students in a way which makes  _Have fun_  seem like a threat and then steps off the crate, her bell jingling faintly as the mass of students begins moving noisily towards the buses.

Max immediately begins barrelling through the crowd towards the buses, although warmth isn't as much of an issue suddenly as Jane falls into step beside her and starts shouldering people out of her way. “Assigned partners,” she groans.

“Yeah, I know,” Max laughs, pulling her long hair over her shoulder when it snags on a student's backpack painfully as she fights through the mob. “They do it every year, you'd think by senior year we'd be capable of choosing who we're stuck with for an entire day.”

“It's not always so bad,” Dustin says cheerfully from behind them. “Once the teachers see you pair off you can usually find your friends and their friends and form a big group, it can be like a science club.”

“If whoever you get paired with is cool,” Mike says, watching Jane out of the corner of his eye as he struggles to keep up with them.

“They'd better have new displays this year, that's all I'm saying,” Max says, grabbing the back of Will's hood as the press of students threatens to swallow him up. Lucas grips his shoulder and leads him back towards them much more gently, and after an exchanged glance Max slows her pace through the crowd, although not by much. “If we have to go every year they could at least change it up once in awhile.”

“Change the fossil jungle?” Dustin cries incredulously. “Change the rodent evolution diorama? The  _reptile room_? Would you ask the stars to change because you were bored of their perfection, too?”

“The stars change more often than the museum displays,” Max says, and watches the stars she'll never get bored of behind Jane's eyes dizzily when Jane snickers at her behind her hand.

“It sounds interesting to me,” Jane confesses, holding Max's eyes almost shyly as they slip around opposite sides of a boy and girl in the midst of a heated argument. Dustin makes a vindicated exclamation behind them, and Lucas flicks him upside the head. Jane adds, “I've never been to a museum.”

“Never?” Dustin gasps from behind them. “Chicago has literally the coolest museums ever, I would have lived in museums!”

“Probably not if you were a local,” Will points out gently. “Jonathan wanted to go to a bunch of museums in New York when he first got there and most of the people who grew up there hadn't been to anything besides, like, the Met.”

Jane bites her lip, face closing off again as she looks down at her feet. Max turns around to punch Dustin in the shoulder and then wriggles her way through the crowd to stand so close to Jane their arms brush, trying to ignore the heat like a branding iron where Jane pressed against her, even though their jackets. She suddenly wasn't in such a hurry to reach the warmth of the bus, although Jane was ploughing through the crowd like a bulldozer. “If this is your first time in a museum this is actually a great way to start,” she says as Jane looks up at her. “It's barely a museum, so it'll ease you into it. It's more like those jungle-themed restaurants, but scientifically accurate.”

Jane laughs, full and rich even in her low voice, and several people actually turn to look at her at the sound. Max's eyes are only for her, though, drinking in the little crinkles beside her eyes as they scrunch like a cat's with her mirth. She's so close, and the crowd is only jostling them closer, and Max forgets what she's doing and where they are and who  _she_  is when Jane leans in, one side of her smirk quirking up mischievously. “You mean Hawkins, Indiana, doesn't have a state-of-the-art science museum?” she says, eyes wide in mock-disbelief. She separates every word in  _state-of-the-art_  like each syllable is important to understanding the joke.

Max's laugh is too loud, bursting from her awkwardly-wide grin without her consent. She forces herself to look away from Jane, heart pounding so forcefully against her ribcage every bone in her body vibrates with the echo. “Oh my god,” she says, shakily, and allows herself another laugh, more human-sounding this time, to buy her a moment to collect herself. “This may shock you,” she says lowly, keeping her eyes straight ahead as they finally break through the crowd to the line of buses waiting in the pick-up circle, “but not everything you've experienced so far in Hawkins has been state-of-the-art.”

Jane sniggers, but Mike laughs, too, and the sound brings her back to herself like she's falling into her body after a dream. She blushes to the roots of her hair, feeling like she's been caught doing something she shouldn't be. She studies the list of partners posted on the side of the bus a little bit too intensely as Mike says, “She's exaggerating, it's not that bad here. Maybe not Chicago level, but the museum is pretty fun. Once we have our partners we should get back together and I can show you the best stuff.”

“Yeah, we have to take you through the reptile room!” Dustin says enthusiastically, and the cold, petty twisting in Max's stomach gives a victorious twitch at his words. “There's no live lizards in there, so don't get too excited -”

“Uh, Dustin -” Will starts gently.

“Depends on who your partner is,” Lucas says, planting a heavy hand on Max's shoulder and making her jump. “We could get the whole party together if it works out. Who am I with, MadMax?”

Realizing she should probably actually read the list instead of staring at it like she's worried there will be a quiz later, Max runs her eyes down the paper to find his name. “Oh, Joannie Marshall, look who's getting a biology lesson at the museum,” she smirks, and he swats her shoulder with a huff.

“Is Joannie good at biology?” Jane says in confusion.

Max closes her eyes as the boys snicker. “Top of the class so far,” Lucas says, and the boys burst out laughing.

“You guys are dicks,” Max says, narrowed eyes running over the list so that she doesn't have to see Jane's expression. “And for Jane Hopper we have – Oh, shit, Jane, I am so, so sorry.”

“What?” Jane says, concerned.

The answer comes in the form of an arm being slung across Jane's shoulder, cupped hand swinging dangerously close to the gap between the lapels of her jacket. "Jane Hopper," Jeffery Cameron smirks, curling his muscular body around her much smaller form. "Did I hear something about a biology lesson?"

She can't see Jane's face, but the rage Max feels emanating from the punk girl makes her freeze mid-step as she starts automatically towards Jeffery. "Move your arm," Jane says, the command simple but full of authority.

Jeffery's arm whips back like he's been burned, but he recovers quickly, running the same hand through his hair like he'd been planning it the whole time. "Feisty, I like it," he grins. "If all that messed-up stuff I hear you do behind the gym is -"

"All right, we're getting on the bus," Max says, grabbing Jane's forearm and whirling around to head towards the folded doors, because at least three people in the party were about to punch Jeffery in front of all of the twelfth grade science teachers, and only Jane would have done any damage. "Break your spine so that you can blow yourself, Jeffery."

"Just because no one would touch you with a ten-foot pole doesn't mean you have to ruin sex for the rest of us, Mayfield," Jeffery calls back, and Max flips him off as she guides Jane into the bus with her other arm when the other girl freezes like she's about to turn back to him.

"Jeffery Cameron?" Mike exclaims, scrambling up the steps in front of them noisily. "No. No way. You have to switch partners."

"Mrs. Johnson said we couldn't switch," Jane says, voice quiet as she leads the way down the isle. "Prohibited."

"Yeah, but once you're checked in you can find him some distracting cheerleader legs and come find us," Max says. She realizes she's still leading Jane with her hand and whips it behind her back as fast as Jeffery had, blushing furiously, but Jane only glances over her shoulder, the dark make-up dusted around her big eyes wrinkling with her smile. "He's not exactly a loss for a science partner, as you can probably tell," Max continues, dragged forward by that tractor-beam gaze. "Hey, Lucas can sacrifice his cheerleader legs for you, can't you, Lucas?"

"Mine or Joannie's? Because mine are my money-makers," Lucas calls, and they all laugh.

Max and Jane grin at each other as the boys joke around them, and Max doesn't realize they'd been standing still in the middle of the isle until Mike stretches an arm out hesitantly, hovering just behind Jane's back without touching her. "Want to sit, Jane?" he says with a nervous smile.

Jane smiles at him and shuffles into the seat he's standing behind, and Max is shaken from her dazed staring at the way the muted beam of light from the bus window illuminates her sharp cheekbones and slender nose when she turns back to Max as Mike throws himself heavily into the seat beside her. He leans forward to balance his gangly forearms on his knees, wild hair obscuring Max's line of vision, and for the first time Max is glad of this so that Jane doesn't see her expression as her stomach sinks like a stone. Irritated, she looks away from Mike and reaches out to snag Lucas, pulling him forcefully behind her as she climbs into another bus seat across the isle.

"Holy shit, MadMax, don't tell me you're still cold," Lucas complains. though he rearranges his long limbs so that she can curl into his body.

Max shrugs as one of his arms wrap around her back; it's as good an excuse as any. Jane laughs, quiet in the excitable buzz of conversation around them on the bus, but Max's ears still pick the sound out of the storm of voices, and she realizes she  _is_  cold despite the heat of the bus. "I'm probably going to be cold until June," she mutters, leaning her head on his shoulder and letting her long hair fall over her face. "Winter is evil."

"Cheer up, Max," Dustin grins, climbing into the seat in front of them next to Will. "We don't have class for a whole day, you love missing class."

"And they have that rock candy you like at the gift shop, you can re-stock up on that," Will says with a smile in his voice.

"Fuck  _yeah_ , I didn't even think about the gift shop," Dustin exclaims. "I should have cleaned out my backpack for optimal candy inventory space. We should get those dinosaur marshmallows for when we fight a dragon in our new campaign!"

"A dragon and a dinosaur are two totally different creatures," Lucas says.

"They're giant lizards with wings," Dustin says, sounding exasperated already. "If a giant lizard with wings comes through the forest knocking down trees to trample you are you really going to notice whether it's a dinosaur or a dragon?"

"Uh, yeah, because if it's real life it's not a fucking dragon," Lucas shoots back.

"It's not a dinosaur, either, unless you invented a time machine to take us back to the paleolithic era and didn't tell us," Dustin snaps.

Max and Will roll their eyes at each other as the two descend into bickering. Max plays with Lucas's shirt and watches Will through the protective curtain of her hair as he glances over at Jane and Mike like he can't help it, and if she didn't know any better she'd think he looked like he had been pulled into the shade after standing in the sun, too.

\---

Her assigned partner, Melanie Davis, ditches her for a large group of giggling popular girls as soon as they walk through the museum's doors. She hadn't exactly wanted to spend the day with Melanie, but she's a bit irritated as she moves through the crowd with her hands in her pockets, trying to look like she knows where she's going; everyone knows you put up with your partner for at least the first half-hour until the teachers stop paying such close attention, and being left alone makes her much more obvious than Melanie will be in a group. She's reading the directory, trying to figure out the fastest route to the reptile room, Dustin's predictable first choice and the best way to guarantee finding one of her friends to latch onto, when she hears her name.

She turns, and all of the irritation evaporates like steam, probably from the sudden heat of countless suns on her blushing skin. "Jane, hey," she grins, turning her back on the directory fully as Jane reaches her. "Managed to ditch Jeffery already?"

Jane makes a face at her. "He wanted to use the bathroom, so I left before he came out."

Max laughs. "Before you'd even started? That's hilarious. The only way to deal with guys like Jeffery, really."

Jane nods solumly, and they both burst out laughing. Jane smudges the sides of her powder eye make-up on her fingerless gloves when she swipes a palm over her face to muffle her laughter, and Max loses her head enough to step towards her, gripping Jane's forearm over her leather jacket as she starts forward eagerly. "This is great, I can show you the best stuff. Not Dustin's favorite stuff, the displays that are actually cool."

Jane snickers, following without complaint as Max marches into the atrium of the museum. "Reptile room not cool?" she smiles.

"Oh, it's about as cool as it sounds," Max says, and Jane's laugh suddenly makes her realize she's still holding the other girl's arm even though they're walking side-by-side. She drops it like it's on fire, although incidentally she'd the one burning up as she blushes fiercely and shoves her hands into her jacket pockets. "Which classes do you have worksheets for?" she asks to distract Jane from yet another moment in her long string of incompetencies.

"All of them," Jane sighs, and Max can't help her affectionate smile. "Our chemistry one, and then biology, geography, and physics."

"Shit, Jane, you really do like experiments, don't you?" she says, raising her eyebrows as she looks around at the entrances to different exhibits. "We may have to hit the reptile room after all. Who do you have for those classes?" She realizes, even though she talks to Jane two separate, shining times a day, she doesn't really know what her friend does outside of the classes they share, and she's suddenly burning with more curiosity than perhaps she should have about Jane's day-to-day life.

"Mr. Kenderick, Mrs. Parker, Mr. Jacobson, and Mr. Maclaughlin," Jane says. "I wanted to try all of the sciences, but I like biology best. What are you taking?"

"That is a deadly line-up of teachers, I'm impressed you still like science at all," Max says, watching Jane smile out of the corner of her eye as she pretends to look around for where to start. "I'm just in chem and bio, but I get a science credit for A.V. club too."

"A.V. club?" Jane says curiously.

"Audio-visual club," Max says. Seeing Jane's confused look she elaborates, "We fix tech stuff, like projectors or computers or whatever, for the school, and we run sound and lights for assemblies and pep rallies and stuff."

Jane's eyes are wide. "Sounds hard."

Max shrugs, trying to look modest. "You just have to know how this stuff works," she says, even though she barely knows how any of it works and mostly does the hammering and lifting that the boys are hopeless at. "We can look at some tech stuff while we're here, if we have time after your seventeen worksheets."

Jane perks up. "You'll show me?"

"Sure," Max smiles, basking in her excitement and barely remembering what she's agreeing to. For the first time in her life she wishes she hadn't spent the past four years mocking her friends and actually paid attention in A.V. club. "Tell you what," she adds as Jane beams at her, her disproportionate excitement as infectious as her smile, "why don't we start with the flashy tech stuff? You can enjoy it before the worksheets kill your enthusiasm for learning like all schoolwork."

Jane snorts, rolling her eyes as her lips twitch into her lop-sided smirk. "The establishment does crush individuality," she says quietly, and grins when Max snickers, a bit surprised. "Told you you were punk," she says lowly, holding Max's eyes, and their shoulders brush when she walks past as Max stares, locked in that tractor-beam, until she finally turns away and Max scrambles to catch up.

Max keeps her mouth squeezed shut as she walks under the "Modern Technology" archway beside Jane, concentrating on breathing through her nose so that Jane doesn't notice her sudden shortness of breath. This doesn't help, as Jane is standing close to her again and she gets a nose-full of that intoxicating, earthy smell of Jane and the world spins a little bit too pleasantly. She clears her throat, stepping subtly away from her friend as she pretends to survey the room to give herself time to recover. Thankfully most of the room seems to be directed at kids, so she shouldn't be so far behind that she can't show off a bit to Jane. "Anything in particular you're interested in?"

"I don't know," Jane says softly.

"A bit of everything it is," Max says with a smile, leading the way into the room with confidence she hasn't earned. “The fun thing about museums is they actually show you what they're talking about, with displays and models and stuff, instead of talking at you forever about the theory of a closed-circuit breaker or whatever. Oh, here's something you'll get a kick out of,” she adds, grinning over her shoulder as she waves Jane towards the Tesla ball. Jane looks down at the clear globe and back up at Max, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Max grins, waggling her eyebrows as she tosses her hair over her shoulder and raises her hands dramatically.

“Watch,” she says, and touches the globe.

Jane's reaction is exactly what she had been hoping for. The punk girl gapes, then bursts out laughing as Max's mass of hair sizzles and stands on end, sparks of lightening threading through the long strands as they frizzle like a mad scientist's. Bolstered by her reaction, Max widens her eyes and puts both hands on the globe, pulling a grotesque face at Jane as if she's in a b-movie with terrible effects, and Jane is laughing so hard her beautiful eyes are squeezed shut, head thrown back so far Max can see her slightly-misaligned front teeth, when Max finally takes her hands off the Tesla ball.

Sizzling with more energy than could ever be contained inside a Tesla ball, Max waits for her to open her eyes again before she says, “It's just a glass ball, that was just me,” and swipes a hand through her thick hair, igniting the remaining sparks so that her waves light up for a split-second.

Jane laughs, one hand rising to rub the back of her neck as she shakes her head, but her shining eyes sweep over Max's hair curiously, searching for more lightening in the messy waves. “How?” she asks, smiling as her gaze darts from Max to the Tesla globe as if an explanation would appear inside.

"Noble gases trapped in serious pressure," Max says, glancing at the placard next to the globe while Jane is distracted to make sure she knows what she's talking about. "Nikola Tesla basically trapped lightening in a ball by mistake. Humans are great conductors, so the electrons jump to your finger as soon as your touch it. It's not good for much besides making you feel like Dr. Frankenstein, especially if you have an insane amount of hair like I do." Jane snickers, eyes flickering up to run appreciatively over Max's undoubtedly wild tresses. "You should try it," she adds with a grin, shoving her hands into her pockets so that she doesn't do anything she'll regret later just to make Jane laugh again.

Jane looks down at the globe uncertainly. "Electricity?"

"It doesn't hurt," Max says, giving her a reassuring smile when she glances up with wide eyes. The deep purples and blues of the lightening dance across her pale face, and she looks almost otherwordly beautiful in the glow. "See?" Max continues, taking one hand out of her pocket to press the whole palm of her hand to the globe. Jane's eyes drop to the ball curiously, and Max makes her fingers scuttle across the surface, swallowing a besotted smile when Jane's eyes light up with wonder. "It's barely even warm, and you get the power of lightening at your fingertips."

"Pretty," Jane says softly, watching the symphony of lights in the glass ball.

"Yeah," Max sighs, not looking at the Tesla ball at all. "Here, try it with me, it'll look awesome with that many points of contact. Plus I want to see what it does to gelled hair."

Jane grins at her, but what the lightening ball does to gelled hair Max never finds out because someone calls Jane's name and they both look over to see Mike and Jacob Cassidy walking towards them, smiling widely.

Max takes her fingers off of the globe as the boys reach them, feeling her thick hair settle over her cheeks. "Hey, you guys lucked out with partners," she smiles, shuffling to give Jacob more room next to the Tesla ball as he stops beside her.

"We're the only ones who did, we just saw Dustin in a big group of hockey players," Jacob says with a grin, and Max laughs. "We tried to save him, but he didn't see us."

"We'll have to go back on a rescue mission," Max says, running her fingers through her hair and grimacing at the fuzz she finds. Maybe showing off in front of the person she had a hopeless desire to impress with something that she knew would turn her hair into a fluffball wasn't the smartest idea she's ever had.

"So you managed to ditch Jeffery after all?" Mike asks Jane with a gentle smile, ignoring Max completely as he stops on the other side of the Tesla globe next to the taller girl.

"Yes," Jane smiles, glancing at Max a bit mischievously. "Neither of our assigned partners has found us."

Max doubts her own assigned partner is looking too hard for her, but she doesn't feel the need to point this out. Instead she grins and winks at Jane, and she must have gotten lost in her staring again because the ball between them crackles and lights up with a wild burst of spider-leg lightening even though she hadn't seen anyone go near it.

"You try the Tesla ball?" Mike asks Jane.

"Max showed me," Jane says softly, still watching Max with those tractor-beam eyes.

"Yeah, they always made her do the presentation in middle school because of her hair," Mike says with a laugh. "Hey, Max, you should show Jacob what it does, and I'll show Jane the computer motherboard display." He holds out an arm, hovering just over Jane's back again as he turns his body away from the Tesla ball eagerly.

"Jake was in middle school with us," Max says, confused, turning her body in the same direction as her friends. "Jane didn't get to try the Tesla ball, either, just -"

"Hey, Max, can I talk to you for a minute," Mike says, grabbing her arm before she has a chance to answer and dragging her a few paces away from their friends.

"What the hell, Wheeler?" Max snaps, throwing off his hand easily and crossing her arms over her chest. "Don't make me kick your ass in front of the girl you -"

"Shut the hell up, wastoid!" Mike hisses, glancing over his shoulder anxiously and flashing a baffled Jane a smile. "Jesus, even Dustin is a better wing-man than you. Look, Jacob likes you."

Max, who has opened her mouth to snap back about the Dustin comment, pauses to process his words and then scowls. "What? No he doesn't!"

Mike rolls his his eyes with a thousand years worth of weariness. "Yes, he does, dumbass. He's always trying to get you alone in A.V. club, but the room's so small he hasn't had a chance to ask you out, so he wanted to pair up with you for the day."

"Oh, he does, does he?" Max hisses. She has to consciously keep the angry expression on her face as anxiety twists her stomach like a vice. "Nice of you guys to decide my whole day, not to mention my dating life, especially since that  _conveniently_  leaves you with Jane for the day."

Mike flushes, his freckles starkly contrasting against the bright red flooding his cheeks. "That's not - I'm  _helping_  you -"

"Oh, you're helping me!" Max says, voice raising enough that she sees both Jane and Jacob's heads turn out of the corner of her eye. "How generous of you, especially considering you made this decision without considering the tiny, unimportant detail of whether I  _want_  to have -"

"Max, for Christ's sake," Mike whispers, looming over her as if to block her from their friends with his body, but his forehead is wrinkled with concern. "He's right there. I didn't think it would be a huge deal. What's up?"

Max scowls up at him, annoyed that his concern makes it harder to be angry. "You can't just set me up with guys without talking to me first, Mike," she snaps. "It matters whether I like them or not."

"I'm not asking you to get married to him right in the museum, Max," Mike frowns. "I'm just trying to get him some time with you, like you're doing with me and Jane." He blushes again, but his lips curl up a little bit, irresistibly, at the mention of Jane's name.

Max looks away, the bottom dropping out of her stomach heavily. She feels all the electricity from her earlier interaction with Jane fizzle out of her skin, the colors of the room duller in the light of reality. "Look," she says, keeping her eyes on a group of students fiddling with a switchboard display they definitely should not be touching, "I'll leave you and Jane alone once we find other people, if she seems okay with it, because you  _ask_ , mouth-breather, but I don't want to be alone with him if he's... Thinking that. I don't like him like that, and he's nice but I doubt he's at Lucas-level of understanding when a girl just wants to be friends."

Mike snorts, and when Max looks back at him his eyes are warm. "Yeah, we can do that," he says softly, and Max feels her shoulders relax even as she wraps her arms around herself. "Sorry, I guess I was thinking about Jane."

"Yeah, asshole." Max punches him in the shoulder, and although it's barely a bump he stumbles a bit and glares at her. "You should have been thinking about how I can make even your boring ass look cool in front of her if you don't ditch me with some guy."

"Like how you told her about my Star Wars collectibles?" Mike says with a frown as they turn back towards their friends.

"You mean dolls?" Max says, and feels a little bit better as his frown deepens. "And she's still talking to you, so you're welcome."

Mike opens his mouth to retaliate, but Jane trots up to them, patches of her lipstick worn away from worrying her lower lip with her teeth, and Max is suddenly a bit dizzy from how quickly the colors rush back into the world. "Everything okay?" she says with a little frown, looking back and forth between them.

"Yeah, sorry," Mike says, and Max hopes her face doesn't look like  _that_  when she looks at Jane, although she suspects it does. "Just some dumb... A.V. club stuff."

"Oh, yeah, Jane, remember when I was telling you about what we do in A.V. club?" Max says as they head back towards Jacob, nudging Jane's elbow with her own and trying not to blush with the heat which spreads over her tingling skin from the spot their jackets touch. "Mike's the president."

Jane turns her wide eyes to Mike, and Max clenches her jaw and looks anywhere else, her ears ringing too loudly to hear what Mike is saying in that quiet, gentle voice. Unfortunately anywhere else ends up being Jacob, who appears right in front of her suddenly so close the tips of their sneakers almost touch, eyebrows raised.

“You okay?” he says, towering over her with narrowed eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” Max says, shoving her hands in her pockets and trying to step backwards without looking too obvious. She can see it now, the look in his eyes that means he wants more from her than she can ever give, and her stomach twists anxiously, something cold and unpleasant creeping up the back of her throat as she swallows. She looks away, letting her long hair hang over her face as she takes the excuse to lean away from him. “We should check out some more exhibits, I haven't gotten anything from my sheets filled out.”

“We could go to the planetarium,” he says, voice deep and just for her.

“Yeah, that sounds great, the planetarium,” she says quickly, raising her voice a bit as she turns towards her quietly-chatting friends. “We should all go to the planetarium,” she says, making aggressive eye contact with Mike.

“Actually, I thought -” Jacob starts.

“Yeah, I need to answer some questions from there for physics,” Mike says over him, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder as he starts walking without waiting for an answer. “Are you in physics?” he adds, eyes softening as he looks down at Jane when she follows him after a moment of hesitation, and it's a mark of how grateful Max is for his help with Jacob that she doesn't say anything.

“Yes,” Jane says, eyebrows pinched with confusion but gamely falling into step with them as they cross the exhibition room. “I thought you weren't?” she adds to Max, doe eyes meeting hers as she bumps their shoulders gently, and Max has to wipe her sweaty palms on the inside lining of her trouser pockets.

“You're not?” Jacob says immediately. “We should go somewhere else, then, the evolution wing is on the bio -”

“No, I love the planetarium, it's fun,” Max says loudly, speeding up her steps. “Don't need a worksheet to appreciate the cosmos – Oh, look, it's Will!” she exclaims, gesturing at him in case her friends had missed him walking towards them head-on.

“Hi, guys,” Will says, eyeing Max with amusement as he swings around to join the group by Mike's side. “Didn't even last half an hour?”

Max is distracted from Mike's answer by a tugging on her sleeve, and her stupid, reckless heart tries to throw itself out of her ribcage when she turns and sees Jane looking at her from underneath her eyelashes. “What is planetarium?” Jane asks quietly, black nails scratching at her hairline hard enough to leave faint red marks.

“Oh, yeah, it's a part of the museum,” Max says, smiling reassuringly so that Jane will know she wasn't expected to know the word, and Jane's hand lowers, although she chews her lip and only watches Max out of the corner of her eye. “They project the Milky Way over this big room with all of the planets and constellations and everything, and there's this dorky movie they play every hour or something in the theater that goes through the names of the planets and moons and stuff. It's probably the best part of the museum, it feels like standing under the night sky if there was no light or pollution and you could see the whole universe.”

Jane's eyes soften, and she finally smiles, the corner of her lips quirking up just a bit as she glances at her feet and then back into Max's eyes. Her expression is so soft Max gets that glimpse of the layers of her she'd discovered at Hopper's trailer, but before she can start to ruminate about stars and universes Jane says quietly, “Does it have a door to the outside?”

Max blinks; even if she hadn't been lost in the galaxies behind Jane's eyes that would have been the last thing she'd expected Jane to ask. “You done with museums already?” she asks with a nervous little laugh.

“No,” Jane says. “I want to see the planetarium. I just need a smoke.” She wrinkles her nose, smiling a bit apologetically.

Max laughs for real, a spring in her step as she glances around them to look for a door. “You must really be addicted, going outside to huff stuff that smells like my step-dad's rusted gas tank in this weather,” she teases. “That one doesn't look like an emergency exit, but maybe make sure there isn't a sign so it doesn't set off the fire alarm or something.”

Jane snickers, arching a brow over mischievous eyes as she passes in front of Max. “It doesn't smell bad,” she smiles.

As Jane passes Max secretly agrees, but she sticks out her tongue and makes a noise of disgust anyway. “My lungs only accept air, thank you very much,” she calls, and Jane swings around to grin at her, walking backwards seamlessly for a few steps. “We're right around the corner, follow the sign there. Come meet us when you're done.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Mike calls anxiously as Jane turns around and lopes towards the door.

“She's smoking, dumbass, relax,” Max says, leading the way towards the planetarium doors with a swish of her long hair.

“God, really?” Jake says, trailing behind her as they file into the dark one-by-one. “That shit's nasty.”

“If you haven't tried it you don't get an opinion, don't just spout school assembly catch-phrases,” Max says cooly. “I quite enjoyed it.”

Mike catches up to her, ducking his neck to whisper in her ear. “Did you actually smoke or are you fucking with him?”

“Both,” Max whispers back. “If Jane offers you one don't take it, it's horrible.”

Mike grins widely at her, and they snicker as the group walks into the domed chamber.

Max tilts her head back as far as it can go before she tips backwards, spinning in a circle slowly as she tries to look at everything at once. The shapes are fuzzy and small, barely pinpricks of light to make enough room for every heavenly body in the galaxy, but her eyes follow them eagerly, tracing constellations she recognizes and trajectories of planets across the black ceiling. She feels like she's in space with the entire expanding universe to explore, so big and untouchable she can walk from one end of a galaxy to the other in a few steps, and she takes her time looking, shamelessly following every detail of the beauty of space laid out for her with only her eyes as she tunes out her friends's whispers and lets herself appreciate.

When her eyes fall, as if drawn by gravity, and see Jane walking towards her, she predictably feels the same wonder as when she's gazing at the majesty of the Milky Way around them, but, already lost amoungst the stars around them, she lets herself ignore the beauty of the universe for Jane's eyes. Jane's pale skin seems to glow with the constellations of stars inside of her as she pads through the dark room, and her gaze, black in the dim light and burning as she holds steady, serious eye-contact with Max, pulls the shorter girl forward irresistibly as she sees the same thing inside of Jane that she has inside herself, the wordless, helpless longing that can almost make Max believe that Jane's endless eyes are looking back at her in the same way -

She's forcibly pulled out of Jane's solar system by a pair of strong arms around her middle hauling her into the air, and she grips her best friend's forearms for a few long seconds after he puts her down to reorient herself. "Jesus Christ, Lucas," she snaps, elbowing him in the stomach as he cackles so loudly behind her several people around them shush him. "Get a bell."

"Not my fault you're such a space cadet," he grins, loosening his grip as she turns around to glare at him. "Nice of you all to meet up and not track me down."

"It may have been optimistic to think you need more than twenty minutes with Joannie, but we were feeling generous," Max says with a sage nod, and their ensuing tickle battle ends with her backing up into Mr. Kenderick.

"This is a place of learning," the teacher says with a frown, voice low. "I expect better from both of you. If you can't behave I will escort you to a quiet room."

"Sorry, sir," Max whispers, stepping back into Lucas and swatting his stomach behind her back so that Mr. Kenderick can't see it. "We were just going to the movie... Part." She turns around quickly, grabbing Lucas's arm and poking Will as she starts across the room.

The group tramples after her, whispering amoungst themselves, but Will catches up to her, linking their arms together. She glances over at him, but he's not looking at her, and she follows his gaze to Mike and Jane lagging behind the group, Jane's neck craned so far backwards she's almost stumbling as her wide eyes stare up at whatever Mike is pointing at. Jane seems to feel her gaze and pauses her steps, raising her head to find the eyes on her, but Max looks away quickly, suddenly dreading looking deep into those endless eyes and realizing she couldn't have seen what she thought she had a few minutes ago. She stares ahead, no longer drinking in the tiny lights dancing across the wall, and Will squeezes his elbow around hers. She squeezes back, and although her stomach is still frosted over she smiles down at him as they walk through the heavy curtain acting as a door to the theater, somehow feeling less alone.

As Lucas and Will settle on either side of her and they snicker at Jacob's annoyed expression, Max is the one who feels eyes on her, and she looks over to see Jane a few rows down, gazing up at her as Mike herds her down one of the long benches. Jane smiles when their eyes meet, and even though she's as cold as she had been outside that morning, even though the thing in her guts is twisting her insides vengefully, even though she knows no matter how many times she has this realization her heart is going to try to escape through her chest to get to Jane whenever she sees her, the smile she gives Jane in return is genuine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said this was going to be 10 chapters ashjlfshljl  
> I got conflicting information when I looked up whether a Tesla ball was what I was thinking it was, so if the ball with lightening and the one that makes your hair stand on end are two different things I'm really sorry!!! I remember seeing a presentation with the lightening where it did make your hair spark but I'm not 100% sure I didn't combine the two in my head so if it's wrong and it takes you out of the story just imagine it's the by-product of the upside down and nobody told Hawkins it only happened there ashghsl;j  
> I kind of hate this chapter so I'm going to go read comments and hope it makes me want to write again, you guys especially the people who comment every chapter make my day you don't even know


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof okay I know you all don't come here for the plot but bear with me, I'm still learning how to write but I'm trying out this character development (tm) thing. I've been planning this for awhile and I'd kind of hoped that I'd be better at writing by this point in the story ashlaljsh;y I'm kind of nervous about this. The beginning is dedicated to @butcheleven because they had mentioned it in a comment and I'm kind of killing this beautiful soul by not letting elmax kiss ashljhlf I'm so sorry there will be lots of smooches soon!!! really soon you guys!!!  
> Warning for bullying, violence, and mentions of abuse, again not as bad as the show but it gets serious so stay safe!!!

Swallowing a curse as she tries to make it look like her fumbling the textbooks in her arms and Jane calling her name are two separate phenomenon, Max wonders silently how long she will have to be friends with Jane before she can confidently hold objects in her arms again.

As always, all of her irritation at herself evaporates like smoke as she turns to see Jane leaning against the locker beside hers. Jane's dark hair is spiked up again, gleaming in the florescent lights of the hallway, and she scratches at the base of her hairline absently as she watches Max with warm eyes, gaze flickering from Max's books to her face as the redhead looks at her. She has an unlit cigarette between her lips, and Max almost drops her books again when Jane smiles at her lop-sidedly and the cigarette twitches with the movement.

Mind foggy at her closeness, Max tries to think of a self-depreciating joke that would distract from her awkwardness instead of add to it, but Jane speaks first. "I have something for you," she says softly, reaching up with one hand to pull the cigarette away from her lips with two slender fingers. She's not wearing her fingerless gloves today, and Max wonders what it wrong with her when her stomach swoops dizzily at the flash of pale skin as her hand drops back to rest against her thigh.

"If it's another cigarette I'm not accepting gifts right now," Max blurts out, stupidly, eyes widening as she hears the words come out of her mouth. She briefly considers just turning around and walking away from Jane and her friendship forever, since she obviously can't be trusted to speak in front of her at all, but she seems to be frozen to the hallway tiles.

Jane, more gracious than Max can ever hope to be, grins at her, ducking her head as she bites down on her lower lip almost shyly. "No," she says, lashes lowering as she digs through her jacket pocket with the hand not holding the cigarette. "Less gross. Hopefully." She smirks, the collar of her leather jacket bracketing her slender neck as she lifts one shoulder casually, but she's still biting her lip as she holds out a plastic rectangle in Max's direction.

Max lights up when she sees the cassette case. "Oh, awesome! Is this another girl punk group? I've been listening to the Lunachicks on repeat, I even got the boys into it because I play it in the car all the time." She turns the case over in her hands curiously, looking for a label. "Who is it?"

"It's a bunch of groups," Jane says quietly, watching the tape in Max's hand through her lashes and sliding her free hand into her trouser pocket. "There are some Lunachick tracks from other albums, and lots of singles from other groups you haven't heard yet. To see what you like. I wrote down the song titles and artist names on the card inside."

Max feels the countless suns of Jane's constellations burning in her chest suddenly, and she cracks open the case with shaking fingers to give herself an excuse to avoid looking directly at the other girl. "Jane," she breathes, wide eyes running down the tiny notecard crammed with neat printing in every color of ink. "This is amazing. I can't believe there are this many good underground punk groups."

"There's another side," Jane says, poking the notecard with a chipped black fingernail. She snickers softly when Max flips the card immediately, but Max can't even bring herself to be embarrassed as she pours over the foreign names on the opposite side of the card eagerly. "It's not all of the good bands, but it's a place to start," Jane continues, shuffling a bit closer as Max swallows painfully around the pressure in her throat. "Mostly all-girl groups, but some only have a female singer. All my favorites, you can let me know what kind you like."

Against her better judgement Max's gaze is pulled by Jane's gravitational force to meet the taller girl's, the light behind those doe eyes searing her as she stares back unblinkingly. Her knees are shaking so hard she can hear the cassette case rattling, but she can't think of how to stop them. "You - Wait, you made this  _for_  me?" she croaks.

"Yes, it's yours," Jane smiles with a tilt of her head, looking pleased with herself. "But if you still listen to the other tape so much you can have it, too. I can copy it again."

Max lets out a shaky little laugh, although Jane hasn't really said anything funny, feeling like she can't quite get enough air even though her chest is too full. She feels like she has to say something, anything, or she's going to burn up right here in the hallway in front of Jane, so she blurts out, "Bootlegging a bootleg, that's the most punk thing I've ever heard." Jane snickers, and it gives Max a moment to turn away and collect herself, shoving the books into her locker blindly as she desperately tries to will her bright blush away. "That's... Thanks, Jane," she says hoarsely, pursing her lips so that her smile doesn't grow too wide. "I can't wait to listen to it. Any 5.6.7.8.s on there? I didn't get a chance to listen to them as closely as I wanted to before."

"Just one," Jane says, leaning her head against the locker door and squashing one of her spikes as she watches Max pretend to be sorting through her books. "I couldn't fit all the good songs on one tape, there are too many." She makes a face.

"Not a bad problem to have," Max grins, and Jane laughs. "Seriously, though, I can't steal your Lunachicks tape. I've already had it for too long, I keep forgetting to go grab it for you before class. Hey, now that I think of it -" she glances down at the watch on her wrist, calculating - "Come out to my car with me quickly, I can grab it for you right now."

"Okay," Jane says softly. Her tractor-beam eyes are still on Max, but the redhead doesn't dare even glance at her as she grabs her coat and slams her locker shut, tucking the mix tape carefully into the zippered pocket before she begins pulling it on.

"So the Lunachicks are in New York, right?" Max says as they ease into the crowd. "Will's brother lives there, he's pretty into the music scene but Will says he can't find a copy of the tape."

Jane shrugs, tapping the butt of her cigarette against her bottom lip. "They aren't in stores. We bought it at the show. You have to hear about them from other people, I think."

"Jonathan will love that," Max laughs. "The more obscure the music, the better, to him. Will likes his music, but he feels like he shouldn't tell Jonathan he likes stuff like Madonna, too."

Jane grins, her mischievous glance enough to make Max's already shaky knees weaken. "Madonna?"

"He and Dustin are insufferable when it comes to pop music," Max grins, basking in Jane's husky laugh. "I've caught them playing air-symphonies along to the Star Wars soundtrack, though, so I think they'll get into anything."

"Star Wars," Jane smiles as she pushes open the side-door and steps out onto the frosted grass. "I still haven't watched it. Hop refused to rent it."

Max snickers, picturing Chief Hopper's face when Jane had asked him watch Star Wars with her. "I'll bet. Hey, well, if you want to watch it -" she glances down at her sneakers in the cold grass, wondering a bit hysterically how much more her heart can take today before it bursts like it's threatening to in her chest - "We have movie nights all the time, I'm sure we'd all be glad of the excuse to watch A New Hope for the forty-seventh time if you wanted to come."

Jane grips her forearm hard enough to hurt, and she's just starting to feel her feet leave the frozen lawn when Jane says, urgently, "Will," and takes off running away from her.

Max blinks, her foggy mind trying to process whether this was an acknowledgement that Jane would join them or not as she stares at Jane's retreating back. And then she sees what Jane is running towards, and the warm fog turns to cold terror as she starts running, too.

Will is being held with his arms behind his back by a laughing Troy, his struggles barely jostling the bigger boy. Lucas, facing away from her, is being held at bay by a hulking football player she doesn't know, and Dustin and Mike are shouting at Jeffery as he pushes them backwards with a hand to each of their chests. Dustin is letting loose an impressive string of curses as the girls approach, swatting Jeffery's hand away ineffectively, and his eyes are wild when they meet Max's.

"Let him go," Jane says, low voice laced with unspoken treat as her hands curl into fists at her sides.

"You've got to learn to mind your own business, psycho," Troy says, looking at Jane with pure loathing as he twists Will's arms behind his back. Will whimpers, and Max's heart speeds up with terror, wondering how close Troy is to breaking his arm.

"You're the one who needs to learn that lesson, Troy," Max snaps. She shifts her weight, considering simply charging at Troy and hoping Jane follows her before one of the other bullies can stop the disproportionately-strong girl. "Walk away, boys, we don't need to do this."

Troy laughs, pulling Will backwards roughly and smirking when Max and Jane step forward. "You don't get to decide what we do," he says through bared teeth.

"Don't touch him, you sick son of a bitch!" Mike yells, charging forward. Jeffery slams an arm into his stomach and he crumbles, stumbling backwards as Dustin reaches for him.

Jane lurches forward with a growl, fist raised, but Troy whips Will around in front of him like a human shield and Jane is forced to fall back as Will cries out in pain, stumbling as his arm twists at an odd angle.

"Stop it!" Max screams as the party yell obscenities around her. "What the hell is wrong with you assholes? You're hurting him!"

"No, he likes it," Jeffery leers. "Fucking fairy's as close to getting touch from a guy as he'll ever be, isn't he?"

Lucas yells and swings at the football player holding him back at the same time Jane charges towards Jeffery and slams the heel of her hand into his nose, and Max hasn't even had a split-second to decide who needs her help more as she steps forward before Troy bellows, "Hey!" and they all turn to see him holding a knife in front of Will's chest.

Everyone freezes. Dustin whispers, "Holy shit," and Max can't think of a better way to phrase it as she fights to stay upright when they ground disappears beneath her.

"Woah, woah, woah, Troy," she says shakily, holding up her hands in supplication. "What the  _fuck_."

Troy turns his and Will's bodies towards her, and Jane is immediately in front of her, pure rage radiating from her tensed body as she shifts her shoulders. "I've been carrying this ever since that crazy bitch raged out on me," Troy yells. Max moves to look at him around Jane's body and sees him waving the blade in the air in front of Will, and she nudges Jane as adrenaline pumps through her body, ready to pounce, but Jane elbows Max back behind her. "Yeah, you got the drop on me last time, psycho, but you'll regret it when Principal Gibbins expels your ass if you try to touch me now."

"Troy," Jane says. She rolls one shoulder, bowing her head just enough to glare down her nose at the bully. "Let. Him. Go."

Troy growls at her and raises the knife, and three things happen simultaneously.

The entire party, besides Jane, throw themselves forward without thought, screaming as they flail and push the boys in their way to get to Will.

Will's legs crumble beneath him as Troy jerks him by the arms pinned behind his back, the bully's eyes bulging grotesquely.

Jane lifts her arm with her palm towards Will and Troy, and the knife flies from Troy's hand into hers.

Everyone stops yelling as if someone had abruptly turned off the sound of the world. Held upright by pure adrenaline, Max looks back and forth between Jane and Will rapidly, racing mind trying to process what she'd just seen, and from the soft murmurs to her left she knows the rest of the party is doing the same thing. Will takes advantage of the moment of confusion and scrambles away from Troy, and when Troy lurches over to reach for him Jane marches forward, switching the knife to the hand clenched by her side and raising her empty palm once more, and Troy goes flying across the field like he's been thrown.

Max's jaw drops, but before any of them have time to react Jeffery calls, thickly through the blood pouring down his face from Jane's blow, "Mr. Wiskowski! Mr. Kenderick! Over here!"

Max glances behind her at the two teachers hurrying towards them across the field, briefly wondering why Jeffery would be calling over teachers to witness himself and his friends bullying other students with a knife, but she's distracted when Mike cries, “Will, are you okay?” and she turns back around to see the boys rushing towards Will. She starts forward, too, but glossy brown hair catches her eye and she sees Jane stumble, raising one arm drunkenly to press the sleeve of her jacket underneath her nose. Her hands are on Jane's biceps before she knows what she's doing, and she leans in, peering with concern into Jane's hazy eyes as the punk girl swipes the cuff of her jacket across her upper lip, smearing an alarming amount of blood across her ashy skin.

“Jane?” she says frantically, eyes searching her friend's sagging face for any sign of injury. She doesn't remember seeing Jane get hit, but considering what she  _does_  remember she's not so sure she trusts her own memory at the moment. “Are you okay? Can you talk?”

“What happened?” Dustin calls. Max shakes her head, not daring to turn away from Jane for a moment, and when those beautiful doe eyes rise to meet hers she's surprised to see them dark with pain.

“Max,” she croaks.

Max opens her mouth to answer, but Mr. Wiskowski's voice bursts through her fog of concern like a bullhorn. “What is the meaning of this? Ms. Hopper, is that a  _knife_?”

“Yes, sir,” Jeffery says, and all at once the realization of why Jeffery wanted the teachers to see the aftermath of the fight crashes over Max like an icy wave.

“It's not hers!” Max cries, head whipping around towards the teachers as her friends's voice rise in a chorus of protest as well. “Troy and Jeffery -”

“She did this to me,” Jeffery says over them, and both teachers turn towards him as he gestures to his nose with a theatrical wince. “She pushed Troy -”

“She was nowhere near him!” Lucas shouts angrily, and Max is secretly grateful that someone else had seen at least part of the impossible thing that she had.

“They were all attacking Will, and she came in and saved him!” Mike says, and the party shout in agreement.

“Enough,” Mr. Kenderick snaps, and everyone falls silent. “Save it for the principal. Mr. Cameron, go to the nurse. Ms. Hopper, Mr. Wich, Mr. Jones, follow Mr. Wiskowski to the office.”

“Please, sir,” Max says quickly, “I think she got hurt. Worse than Jeffery, I think she needs actual medical -”

“No,” Jane cuts her off, voice thick but allowing no argument. “No doctor. Call Hopper.”

“Even Chief Hopper won't be able to wiggle you out of trouble this time, young lady,” Mr. Wiskowski says crossly, and Max doesn't think she's wished so badly for the power to make someone bleed with just her glare since Billy left home. Jane sniffs, backing away without looking at her, and the hand still holding the knife is shaking when she raises it to pull back the cuff of her jacket to wipe her nose on the handkerchief underneath.

“And give me that thing, for goodness sakes,” she hears Mr. Wiskowski snap as he leads the way back towards the school. She sees him snatch the knife away from Jane, and starts forward unthinkingly when Jane looks down and doesn't say anything to defend herself.

“I don't think so, Ms. Mayfield,” Mr. Kenderick says, stopping her in her tracks with a hand on her shoulder and a knowing look. “You're lucky you're not in trouble as it is. All five of you, go to class.”

“But she didn't do anything wrong,” Max says, turning to Mr. Kenderick imploringly. He wasn't exactly the most easy-going to teacher at the school, but he was much more fair-minded than Mr. Wiskowski, or probably the principal with Jane's record, and Jane needed an adult on her side.

“She's a hero!” Dustin says from behind her, and she jumps; she hadn't noticed the boys approaching. “She defended us and de-escalated the situation so that nobody got stabbed!”

“She saved my life,” Will says quietly. Max turns to look at him, grateful to see Mike's arm securely around his shoulders, and he's already smiling faintly in her direction when she meets his eyes. “She was amazing,” he continues, and Max smiles shakily.

“If that's true then Principal Gibbins will act accordingly,” Mr. Kenderick says placatingly, waving his hands to herd them back towards the school. “Now, go to class, the bell rang ten minutes ago. I'll sign an incident report so that none of you get detention for being late, but you can't miss the full period. Run along.”

Glancing around at each other silently, the party begins moving slowly towards the building. Mr. Kenderick walks them to the edge of the lawn, but as they head towards the doors he turns to the parking lot. As soon as his back is turned, the group exchanges a look and takes off running, bursting through the school doors and thundering down the halls without discussion.

Shirley the secretary, much less helpful without Billy's smarmy smile to motivate her, tells them that they can't simply waltz into the principal's meetings whenever they please and will have to wait outside. Lucas, Will, and Mike all sit on the bench dutifully, the taller boys leaning their heads on top of Will's so that their two foreheads touch over his, but Dustin and Max pace, Dustin muttering worriedly to himself, Max glaring silently at the door except for short outbursts to tell Dustin to shut up. By the time Chief Hopper slams the reception door open with the power of a gale-storm the party is so wound up they descend on him like ravenous wolves, talking over each other as they circle him anxiously.

“Woah, woah, hey!” Chief Hopper shouts, raising his hands to wave them away. “I don't give a shit about your parking tickets or what have you, kids, I'm busy with -”

“Jane didn't fight!” Mike blurts out loudly. “Well, she did fight, but -”

“The knife was Troy's!” Max says, shifting irritably and feeling as if the adults should be paying attention to this significant detail more. “Jane was taking it away from him, that's why she had it -”

“Carrying a concealed weapon is against the law, not to mention threatening someone with it, you should haul him downtown as soon as you get in there -” Lucas says earnestly.

“Hey, hey, one at at time!” Chief Hopper yells, clapping his hands and glaring around at them. They all fall silent, staring up at him with expectant eyes, and he sighs, waving his hand around carelessly until it rests on Dustin. “You,” he says, “who the hell are you people?”

“We're Jane's friends, the kids she saved,” Dustin says, and grins widely, showing off his pearls.

“Of course you are,” Chief Hopper mutters, running a beefy hand over his face. “Okay, so she fought but she didn't fight and she had a knife but it wasn't hers, tell me your side of the story. One of you!” he adds loudly, clapping his hands again when they all start talking at once.

Will steps in front of Chief Hopper hesitantly, and Max lets her shoulders relax a minuscule amount; adults loved Will. “It was me, sir,” he says, and although his voice is quiet he fixes his big eyes onto Chief Hopper's resolutely. “Troy grabbed me and was twisting my arm and pushing me around, calling me – names – and his friends were keeping my friends away from him and taunting them. Jane and Max came to help when they saw him hurting me, and Jane told them several times to let me go but they just taunted her, too, and then Troy pulled out a knife he said he'd been carrying around since their last fight and she took it from him and knocked him down. That's all the teachers saw, the end where she'd defeated them and saved us and taken their weapon. Technically she was in a fight, but they didn't leave her a choice, and she was fighting for her friends. She saved us. She saved me.” Although he smiles at Chief Hopper his face has begun to look pale again during his explanation, and Mike wraps an arm around his shoulders.

Chief Hopper's weathered face looks softer than Max has ever seen it. “You're Joyce's kid?” he asks in a gruff voice.

Will blinks, but nods uncertainly. Chief Hopper nods back, decisively, and starts walking towards the office door. “Okay, kids, thanks, but if you weren't fighting and you're not hurt you should probably -”

“But we should tell the principal what we saw,” Mike bursts out, stepping forward without taking his arm away from Will. “Right now it's three against one, they're all trying to pin it on her and it's not fair -”

“I'm the chief of police, kid, I think I can find a hole in the story of three scared high school students,” Chief Hopper says with a snort.

“Chief of police in  _Hawkins_ ,” Lucas mutters under his breath.

“But we can help!” Max cries. “Troy hurt Will and he's trying to pin it on Jane because he knows the principal will believe it, she said she's one incident away from being suspended and that's already so unfair, she shouldn't lose her education because she saved Will's life!”

Shirley lets out a delicate little cough from the reception desk. “Maybe if she hadn't been so violent in the first place,” she mumbles under her breath, turning a page in her file.

“You got something you want to say about my kid, Shirley?” Chief Hopper says loudly.

Shirley turns bright red and says nothing. The party snickers, high-pitched and wild with nervous energy, and then Lucas says, “She didn't even knock Troy down. The only thing they can book her for is clocking Jeffery, and that was provoked, she kept her distance from Troy the whole time to protect Will.”

Chief Hopper pauses, one hand on the doornob of the office. “What do you mean she didn't touch Troy?” he says slowly.

“Yeah, actually, she never grabbed the knife, either!” Dustin says, and Max and Mike nod at Chief Hopper emphatically. “See, let us go in there and tell -”

“Then how,” Chief Hopper says dangerously, turning around with a glare to rival Jane's, “did she get the knife from Troy?”

Will is frowning at them. “I was distracted when he was pulling my arm, but I felt a push,” he says. “Was she not there?”

“Hey, assholes!” Chief Hopper yells, whirling around to look at them head-on, and they all jump. “Someone explain what you're talking about, now!”

The party exchange glances uncertainly, suddenly silent after wanting so desperately to defend their friend. Chief Hopper raises his bushy eyebrows, glaring daggers, and Mike blurts out, “Troy might have dropped it, or something, she was standing a few feet away but she caught it and kept it away from him.”

“Or he threw it!” Lucas says. “It was really fast, she might have caught it when he was trying to attack her with it.”

“Like a ninja,” Dustin says, and he and Lucas grin at each other like they're talking about a comic book. Max punches them both in the shoulder, scowling.

Chief Hopper is rubbing his forehead roughly, eyes squeezed shut like he's in pain. “Did anyone else see this,” he says lowly.

The group look at each other in confusion. “What?” Mike says.

“Did anyone else see my daughter catch a flying knife like a ninja?” Chief Hopper yells, squishing his furrowed forehead with his pointer finger and thumb, and Will actually takes a step backwards. Mike tightens his arm around Will reflectively.

“Um.” Lucas looks around at the group for confirmation, raising his eyebrows. “No. I don't think so. Even the teachers didn't see anything until the end.”

Hopper purses his lips, scrunching up his whole face before running his palm over his mouth and looking up at them. “You, come with me,” he snaps, jabbing a finger at Will. “You lot, sit out here and wait for us to come back out. Nobody says a word. Not. One. Syllable.”

“But -” Mike starts.

“Hey,” Chief Hopper snarls, cheeks ruddy with fury as he whirls around on Mike. “What did I just say?”

Mike puts up his hands in supplication, silent. Chief Hopper glares at them and then throws the door open, slamming his palm against the edge of the wood as he waits for Will to trot into the room and then slams it shut so roughly the walls shake. Before the door closes Max gets a glimpse of Jane slumped in a chair, small and pale with blood still smeared over her face, and Max takes a step forward automatically before the polished wood obscures her view once more.

The waiting is agony. Max paces by the edge of the bench, wiping her sweaty hands repeatedly on her jeans as her steps get faster and faster. She can hear Chief Hopper and Principal Gibbins yelling behind the door, but it's too muffled to make out any words, and her attempt to press her ear against the door is foiled by Shirley. She huffs for the eighteenth time as she whirls around on her heel, ignoring Lucas's annoyed look at the sound in favour of staring at the door like she'll spontaneously gain super-vision and be able to see what is going on inside the office. She feels like something significant happened during their conversation with the chief, something they'd all missed except for him, and Jane's fate depends on whatever it is and what he's doing about it right now. She wants to bang on the door and scream  _I can help, whatever it is, let me help her_ , but she knows that would definitely get her escorted out of the office and back to class, and the only, tiny way Chief Hopper had hinted that they could help Jane was to remain outside the office and stay quiet, so she purses her lips and shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket, resuming her pacing yet again.

Finally, after what feels like hours, the door opens. Max and the boys rush forward, but Chief Hopper steps through the door first, raising an eyebrow at them and crossing his arms over his chest. Jane slips around his side, head bowed, and when the party shouts her name she looks up, startled, freezing like a deer in headlights beside her adoptive father.

“Are you okay?” Max says in a rush, hurrying over to her without sparing Chief Hopper a glance. Someone has given her something to wipe the blood from her face, probably the chief since Max had seen the mess when she'd peeked at her earlier through the door, and half of her lipstick is gone, her pale lips contrasting with the artificial patches of pink. She watches Max with wide eyes, cheeks flushing as her open lips shake a bit, and Max has to consciously stop herself from taking the punk girl in her arms.

Dustin, however, has no such self control. “Jane!” he cries, barrelling around the chief and flinging his arms around his friend. “We were so worried!”

Jane tenses, doe eyes darting to Max in a panic as her fingers flex rigidly at her sides. Max rolls her eyes and pulls Dustin off, shoving him away with a glare when he gives a whine of protest. “Read the mood, asshole,” she hisses, and Lucas pulls the curly-haired boy behind him as he walks up to Jane with a cautious smile.

“So what happened?” Mike says in his soft voice as Will joins him on his other side. “You're not in trouble, are you?”

Jane stares at him with wide eyes, then looks over at Chief Hopper. She looks so lost, the opposite of the girl who'd had a comeback for every one of his rude comments the last time Max had seen them together, and fresh worry ices over Max's belly as she watches her scratch underneath the black handkerchief around her wrist and lower her eyes instead of answering.

“Hey, Shirley, I'm signing all of these kids out for a period,” Chief Hopper calls over their heads, and everyone except Jane looks at him in surprise.

Shirley turns in her swivel chair, looking at him over her reading classes. “You're not legally authorized -”

“Yeah, you're right, who do we call about that? Oh, the  _police_ ,” Chief Hopper says loudly over her, and it's a mark of how tense the room is that no one laughs. “I need to take their statements, I don't know if you've heard but there was an assault with a deadly weapon on school property today and it's generally frowned upon to let that pass without some thorough paperwork. I'll have them back in time for their classes after lunch.” He holds out his arm and if directing them towards the door, eyebrows raised expectantly, and the party is too bewildered to argue as they begin to silently file out the door.

Max watches Jane out of the corner of her eye, falling back to walk next to the other girl. Jane has her head bowed, teeth worrying her bottom lip so aggressively Max worries she'll draw more blood, and her beautiful features are so pinched with misery Max feels it rolling off of her from an arms-length away. Aching, Max reaches out for her arm before thinking better of it, swinging her hand by her side foolishly before stuffing it back into her jacket pocket. “Hey,” she says softly, and Jane looks over at her, the anxiety in her brown eyes only illuminated by the bright universe inside of her. “Just breathe. That's all you're responsible for right now. Focus on that.”

Jane smiles at her, barely a twitch of her lips but the most genuine expression Max has seen since they'd left the school together what felt like days ago now, and the frost inside of Max melts just a little bit in the glow of it.

As soon as they're through the front doors Chief Hopper rounds on them, serious eyes meeting each of theirs as he speaks, low and careful. “Any of you drive?”

The boys all look at Max, who raises a finger cautiously.

The chief meets her eyes with so much significance Max feels anxiety spike in her chest again, like they're still in the middle of the fight. “You're the one who came to the trailer, right?” he says quietly, and Max nods. “Good. Meet us there in fifteen minutes. Don't follow my car. Don't stop or speak to anyone else. Leave any tape recorders or walk-mans or what have you in your trunk.”

“We're not going to the police station?” Dustin pipes up.

The chief fixes him with such a piercing glare no one else argues. “Fifteen minutes,” Chief Hopper says to Max, and then jerks his head towards his car with a scowl at Jane as he jogs down the steps.

Jane slips past with tense shoulders, watching him with wary eyes, and Max catches her wrist before she can slip past. “Want to ride with us?” she says quietly, raising her eyebrows at her friend as the boys stream around them down the steps. She knows what it's like to be stuck in the passenger's seat of a car with someone who only wants to fight, and clearly the last thing Jane needs right now is more anxiety.

Jane just looks at her silently, and Max is slightly alarmed by the naked longing in her eyes, like she's taking Max in for the last time. Furrowing her brow, Max opens her mouth, but Chief Hopper yells, “ _Now_ , kid!” and Jane slips away from her grip with a weak smile, bounding down the steps towards her adoptive father without looking back even when Max calls her name with confusion.

As soon as the car door slams behind Jane Max comes back to herself, shaking her head before leaping down the front steps two at a time. The boys are all waiting beside her car as she runs towards them, heart pumping madly in her throat, and the party is silent as she unlocks the doors and they all pile inside.

When she turns the car on Jane's Lunachicks tape bursts to life, and she has to close her eyes for a moment. Lucas turns down the volume from the passenger's seat, and she throws the car into gear violently and pulls out onto the street already ten miles above the speed limit.

Dustin, miraculously, makes it three minutes into the drive before he says, “Does anyone else feel like Hopper's taking us back to his trailer to kill us?”

It's not funny, but it breaks the tension enough for everyone to start talking at once. “Did we just stumble into a police conspiracy or something?” Lucas says, sliding his arm behind Max's headrest, and she's grateful for the warmth on her back. “What the fuck was all that?”

“I don't understand why he was so mad at Jane,” Mike says sullenly. Max glances in the rear-view mirror to see him staring out the side window with his chin on one hand, the other hand covering Will's on the seat between them. “He acted like she'd done something bad even after he found out she was protecting us.”

“He's always like that with her,” Max says, and Mike meets her eyes in the mirror. “I'm more worried about her not saying anything after she came out of Gibbins's office, did she look okay to you guys?”

“She kind of looked like she was going to be sick, but I thought that was because of the fight,” Will says. “How  _did_  Troy fall down if she didn't push him? Do you guys remember?”

“I don't know, but Hopper lost his shit when he heard about it,” Lucas says. “That was weird, right? Do you think that's why he doesn't want to talk to us at the station?”

“I don't feel good about this,” Dustin says anxiously.

“When do you feel good about anything?” Lucas shoots back.

“Don't,” Max snaps when Dustin opens his mouth to retaliate. “Look, we can ask Hopper this stuff when we get there, but Jane seems really freaked out, so no invasive questions or surprise hugs until she's up to it, okay?” She glares at Dustin in the rear-view mirror significantly.

Dustin holds up his hands, eyebrows raised. “A party member is in need of assistance, that's first priority,” he says, and the boys all nod as Max pulls the car onto the lawn in front of Hopper's trailer.

They all pile out of the car and walk up the steps to the trailer in silence. As soon as they're out of the vehicle they hear muffled shouting coming from inside, and although worry still twists in her guts like a knife Max is a little bit glad that Jane is able to speak again.

“-you expect me to do, let him get stabbed?” Jane is yelling as they cautiously approach the door.

“I don't know!” Hopper roars, deafening even through the closed door. “This is  _your_  life I'm talking about, too, do you know how hard I have to work to keep you off the radar when you pull shit like this?”

Max and the boys exchange wide-eyed glances, and Jane's voice, quieter but dripping with sullenness, cuts off abruptly at Mike's knock.

There's a pause before Chief Hopper throws open the door, glaring down at them like they were the ones yelling. He steps aside and they all file into the trailer, standing awkwardly in the entrance-way as Chief Hopper slams the door closed behind them hard enough to rattle the frame and stomps over to lean against the back of the couch. Max looks around immediately for Jane and finds her leaning with her back against the wooden post separating the kitchenette from the living room, head bowed with tears gleaming on her lowered lashes, and she starts towards her, heart lodging in her throat painfully, but Chief Hopper says softly, “Don't, Max. Not right now.”

Max whirls around on her heel to scowl at him, losing her head completely at the sight of Jane's tears. “Oh, what, she's okay enough to be yelled at but not okay enough to see the friends whose lives she just saved?” she snaps.

Chief Hopper glowers at her, thick eyebrows snapping together as his eyes harden. “Hey, there, don't start with the attitude,” he growls.

“Don't yell at Max,” Jane says, and although she keeps her eyes lowered her throaty voice has the undercurrent of authority to it which makes Max's heart squeeze.

“I wouldn't push my luck right now if I were you,” Chief Hopper says with a warning in his voice. The lights flicker above them, and he yells, “Hey!” even though Jane keeps glaring at the ground and says nothing.

“What are we doing here?” Mike says in an annoyed voice, and the boys shift and murmur in agreement.

Chief Hopper looks at him out of the corner of his eye without turning his face away from Jane, and then sighs and pushes off the back of the couch. He gestures for them all to sit, and they file into the living room slowly, the boys looking at Chief Hopper curiously as they pass. Max looks over her shoulder at Jane, shuffling her feet reluctantly, and her heart drops to her stomach like a stone when Jane shakes her head minutely and refuses to meet her eyes.

Sighing, Chief Hopper rubs his forehead with his fingers and then meets their eyes resolutely as they squirm uncomfortably on the couch. “You say you're all Jane's friends?” he says quietly.

“Yes,” they all say at once, and Max is sure she's never loved her friends more as she feels their defiant glares from all around her.

“Then she needs you to be her friend now,” Chief Hopper says in an even voice. “What I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room. You can tell no one, not your other friends, not your families, not any dates or crushes no matter who asks. If you can't handle that, you need to get up off this couch and walk away right now, and any questions you still have about what happened today need to be forgotten if you ever cared about her at all.”

They all stare at him, bewildered. Max searches his eyes, trying to see if he's joking, but his gaze is deadly serious, and she flashes back to the rumours circulating the town about Jane being a Russian spy before she stamps the thought down irritably. “Of course we won't tell,” she says, louder than she needs to.

“She's a member of our party,” Dustin says reasonably, as if this explains everything, and Max can see the boys nodding in her peripheral vision.

Hopper eyes him for a long moment, then seems to decide against asking and continues, “Good. The reason Jane was able to save you today, the reason she's in my care at all, is because she has telekinetic powers.”

He watches them warily. The party stares back, unblinkingly, and then Max says on behalf of all of them, “Excuse me?”

“It means she can move things with her mind, as well as manipulate radio and television frequencies,” Chief Hopper says.

“Yeah, we know what it means,” Lucas says irritably.

“What are you talking about?” Mike says.

“Like Jean Gray?” Dustin says with a laugh.

“You could at least come up with a better story if you didn't want to tell us the truth,” Max snaps, furious that Jane was behind them crying and her adoptive father was making jokes. “You know we're seven _teen_ , not seven right?”

Chief Hopper glares at her, feet planted shoulder-width apart and arms folded over her chest like she's a criminal he's interrogating. “You think if I was going to make up a story I'd say she has mind powers?” he says sarcastically. “This is serious, the government -”

“Just because the rest of the town was gossiping about stupid government shit doesn't mean anyone actually believed it,” Mike snaps, leaning forward on the couch like he's about to get up and throw at punch at Chief Hopper. “We can help with whatever's really going on, you don't have to bullshit us.”

“We want to help,” Max says earnestly.

“Then listen to what I'm saying!” Chief Hopper says loudly, clapping his hands as Max and the boys begin talking over each other angrily. “Hey, assholes -”

The coffee mug sitting on the table in front of the couch starts to rattle ominously. The party pauses, looking down at the mug, and it flies off the table and soars over their heads as if shot out of a cannon. The five students turn on the couch slowly to see Jane holding the mug with one raised hand, head bowed low enough that they can't see her eyes as the lights flicker above them.

“Woah,” Dustin whispers after a long moment, and Max silently but vehemently agrees.

“Jane?” Mike says, voice strangled.

“Sure, the knife wasn't dramatic enough,” Chief Hopper mutters, but Max can't take her eyes off of Jane, the hairs on her arms standing straight up as the power she's glimpsed but dismissed before crackles around the brunette like a force of nature.

Jane still won't look at them, only folding her arms over her stomach at the sound of her name, and the group turns around reluctantly as Chief Hopper starts speaking again softly. “Jane's mother was part of a top-secret LSD experiments about mind control for the government. They took Jane away from her as a baby and raised her in a lab, experimenting on her and training her to use her powers. She broke out when we think she was around eleven or twelve, although we're not completely sure when her birthday is, and lived on the streets with a gang of punks who got her arrested -”

“Hey,” Jane snaps, making them all jump. The party turns around eagerly to see her glaring down her nose at Chief Hopper, eyes dark with fury even as her lips tremble. “Kali saved me, same as you.”

Max glances back at Chief Hopper in surprise to see him raising his eyebrows, struggling to hide his touched expression with a frown. “She may have kept you alive, but she didn't protect you,” he says in a low voice, and Max knows they've had this fight before. “If she hadn't been getting you to use your powers they never would have found -”

“Kali didn't use me,” Jane says loudly, and the light fixture above them shakes violently as the lights blink on and off like they're in a horror movie.

“Woah, hey, hey!” Dustin shouts in such a good impression of Chief Hopper that they all turn around to look at him. The lights turn back on as he spreads his hands, raising his eyebrows at the chief sardonically. “Who's Kali?”

“Another kid from the lab, although she's in her twenties now,” Chief Hopper says. “She escaped in her early teens by using her powers to project whatever she wants into people's heads, and she formed a gang of street kids that Jane joined when she escaped and taught her to use her powers for their purposes instead of the lab's.”

“Healing,” Jane mutters, and Lucas hastens to interrupt when Chief Hopper opens his mouth angrily again.

“Wait, there's another telekinetic kid from these experiments?” he says, frowning as he looks between Jane and the chief. “Two people with real-life superpowers?”

“Eleven,” Jane says softly.

Max turns back towards her, neck aching from whipping her head back and forth so many times. She's looking at her feet again, tugging at the black handkerchief around her wrist. “Eleven what?” Max says softly.

“Eleven experiments,” Jane says, and Max's heart aches unbearably at the tears in her voice. Still keeping her head lowered, she tugs the black handkerchief off of her wrist and taps a finger against small black marks on her wrist, then taps her chest. “They kept us apart, but I never heard a number higher than me. I'm Eleven. Not Jane.”

Max's brain seems to be moving in slow motion, saturated with too much impossible information at once. She stares at Jane's wrist, uncomprehending, then looks up to try to catch her friend's eye, although she can only see the top of Jane's head. “You're number eleven?” she says blankly.

“Is that a real tattoo?” Mike pipes up. Max glances back down at the markings on Jane's wrist, and the realization as everything clicks into place vaults her to her feet.

“They _called_  you Eleven?” she cries, red-hot fury pouring through her tensed body so violently she feels as if she should be able to make the lights flicker, too.

Jane winces and covers her wrist with her other hand as if on reflex, and Max regrets her anger when Jane's shoulders hunch and she doesn't answer. Chief Hopper's voice is gentle when he speaks behind her, but Max can't bring herself to look away from her friend, helpless and aching. “Jane found Kali with her powers when she escaped, and she lived with the gang until this summer, travelling around and staying off the radar to keep the government from finding the girls. But they were relying on their powers to survive, and it was only a matter of time before the government tracked them down. They sent in the man who had taken Jane and experimented on her for her whole life to take her back to the lab, and she blew up the building they were in to get away from him. She managed to only kill him and the other scientists, but there's plenty more where that came from and they're all on high alert looking for her now.”

Jane lets out an audible sob, and it's enough to break Max out of her frozen stupor. She's across the room before she can think, whispering Jane's name as she leans over the other girl and lets her long hair fall over their faces like a curtain, standing as close to her as she can without touching her. Jane shakes violently and then she's in Max's arms, clutching her jacket with shaking hands as she buries her face in Max's neck, and the redhead wraps her arms tightly around her body immediately, pulling her as close as she can and curling around her. Every inch of her body that is touching Jane is burning with longing, but it's not the foolish, giddy wanting she's used to which makes her mind fog and her toes curl; as long as Jane is in her arms, shaking like a leaf in winter but solid and real, Max knows she's safe, and need makes Max duck her head to press her nose into Jane's temple, breathing her in as she tries to cover as much of the taller girl's body as she can with her own.

Four pairs of arms slide over them, and Max smiles into Jane's skin as Dustin grunts with the effort of his squeeze when the boys join their hug. Jane's body jerks a bit in surprise, unable to move too much with the crush of bodies around her, but she relaxes and sniffles into Max's neck, smiling weakly as warm tears dribble onto the redhead's freckled skin. Max closes her eyes and lets herself be hugged, not daring to move her arms from Jane's shaking back but revelling in the rest of her friend's affection.

Eventually, Jane sniffs and pulls back a bit, and Max eases her tight hold on her friend as the boys shuffle backwards, although not by much. Jane swipes her knuckles beneath one eye, mouth twitching with a water smile as her eyes flicker over the group. Her dark make-up is streaming over her face, mingling with tears and snot across her cheeks, and Max's chest burns with how impossibly beautiful she is. “I don't -” she looks down and then meets Max's gaze, brown eyes huge with hope and confusion as Max smiles back at her. “You don't think I'm a freak?”

Max starts. “What?” she blurts out, and the boys close in around them again. “A freak?”

“Are you serious right now?” Lucas says, grin wide as he looks down at her with warm eyes. “We knew you were a badass before, but this just gives everything you've done an extra level of cool.”

“You're literally an X-Man!” Dustin says excitedly, eyes wide as he slings his arm over her shoulder. “We've spent so much time reading about superheroes, and we were friends with one this whole time!”

“You're our party's mage now, Jane,” Mike says, and Max can't even be upset by the dreamy expression on his flushed face.

“We liked you before, but now that we know what you went through we admire you, too,” Will says, smiling at her softly.

Jane's eyes widen as she stares at him, looking uncertain, and Max puts her hands over the other girls' elbows, meeting her eyes resolutely so that she sees the truth in them. “What you went through,” she says, trying to keep the anger out of her voice, “no one should have to live through that, especially a child. Not only did you get through it, but you're fighting for other people now, too, people who need it. Me, and Will, and the other people at school you sit in detentions for every day, you saved us just because that's the kind of person you are, and that's amazing, not something you should be ashamed of.”

“Now let's not get crazy,” Chief Hopper says, and the whole party turns to look at him as if they'd forgotten he was there. His expression is soft, the ghost of a smile on his lips as his eyes sweep over the group, but he fixes Jane with a meaningful stare when his gaze reaches her. “I'm glad your friends understand, but the more people who know where you are the more dangerous it is. Fighting brings you attention, especially when you use your powers.”

“Yeah, how did you end up in Hawkins of all places if you were travelling around avoiding government detection?” Lucas says curiously.

“I was in Chicago helping out some old buddies I used to work with,” Chief Hopper says before Jane can answer. “The case kept getting bigger and bigger, and I was following some leads that kept bringing me back to the lab Jane escaped from. I was tailing Dr. Brenner, her so-called Papa, when he cornered her in and old warehouse and I saw the whole thing, powers and all. When I found out her side of the story I arrested her for the more minor crime I was supposed to be investigating, created her an identity and took custody of her because she was a minor in the system, and got her off on probation under the condition that she cut off contact with her gang and reform enough under my supervision to graduate high school. It was fast enough that the bad men couldn't track us to prevent her from escaping, but we don't know how much they know about her new identity or even that Jane Hopper is the same person they're looking for. No one else knew about me investigating the lab or Dr. Brenner, so the two incidents shouldn't seem connected, but we don't need any unnecessary attention from ninja-like fights we can't explain away, kid.” He crosses his arms and stares her down.

“Ninja?” Jane says in confusion.

“So going to high school in Hawkins is your punishment?” Mike says, eyebrows furrowed.

Chief Hopper snorts, but Jane nods seriously. “My new identity had no other priors, and Hop was willing to take full responsibility for me, which cut down on work for everyone. So I have to be a good student and check in with my probation officer, and Hop is supposed to teach me to be a good citizen.”

“Don't call me Hop,” Chief Hopper says irritably.

“A secret identity, cool,” Dustin says with wide eyes, and Jane's lips twitch upwards on one side into a little smile.

“Not cool, dangerous,” Chief Hopper says, sounding exasperated. “This is life or death, kids, you have to remember that.”

“We won't say anything,” Mike says, holding his head high like he thinks he's a paladin from Dungeons and Dragons. “We'll protect her.”

“Like she protected us,” Will says with a smile. “Did I mention how grateful I am to you for saving my life today?”

Jane looks down shyly, biting her lower lip. Dustin throws his arms around her, beaming, and Max has to blink away white spots when Jane looks up and meets her gaze with pure happiness.

“Just don't mention it to anyone else,” Chief Hopper says. “Speaking of which, you kids should head back to school if you want to have time to eat lunch before your next class.”

“Class?” Dustin exclaims. “You expect us to go back and sit through something as inconsequential as school after finding out something of this magnitude?”

“Yes, I do,” Chief Hopper says, scowling. “I only signed you out until after lunch, which means that you're ditching if you don't go to next period, and I wouldn't recommend ditching class at the chief of police's house, unless you want to be escorted back in the police cruiser.”

“I'm escorted every day in the police cruiser,” Jane says to him with a frown, but it twitches up into a smirk when her friends laugh.

“You don't have to be today,” Mike says, smiling at her shyly as the group begins slowly migrating towards the door. “Want to come with us? Since we're all going to the same place.”

“We don't have enough seatbelts,” Dustin points out, and waves an offended hand at Lucas when the taller boy punches him in the shoulder.

“She's not going back in,” Chief Hopper says. They all turn around in alarm except for Jane and Will, and he adds, “Today, just for today. She has an in-school suspension starting tomorrow.”

“What?” Max and Dustin exclaim, while Mike shouts, “That's not fair!”

“She's lucky that's all she got,” Chief Hopper says, and Jane rolls her eyes at Max. “They were talking about expulsion, that Troy kid's mom's a nightmare. It's only two days, and it'll give the rumours in school time to blow over. She's grounded for a lot longer than that, since apparently she can't be trusted to walk out the door without breaking a guy's nose.”

“Grounded?” the boys and Max shout.

“What's grounded?” Jane says with furrowed eyebrows.

“It means he's as bad as the teachers for punishing you for doing the right thing,” Mike says, glaring at Chief Hopper.

“Watch yourself, kid,” Chief Hopper growls. “I don't have to explain my parenting methods to you. Go back to class and keep your mouth shut.”

Max leans in to Jane, heart stuttering hopelessly when Jane presses closer immediately. “Don't worry, if you're going to learn about teen-age punishments we can teach you teen-age ways around them,” she whispers, face flushing at Jane's wicked grin. “Take the phone into your room when Hop's not looking and play your music really loud, when I call at 8:15 exactly pick up on the first ring and he shouldn't hear it. We can talk without him knowing.”

Jane grins and nods minutely, eyes mischievous. Max winks at her, stepping backwards to get out of the way as the boys mill around her, and they all glance up when the lights flicker as she steps out the door.

“Is that you?” Dustin says excitedly.

“Jane,” Chief Hopper says, although his voice is more amused than reproachful.

“I know,” Jane sighs. “See you, everyone.”

The boys call their goodbyes as they follow Max out the door. Max catches Jane's eye and holds her thumb and pinky up to her ear like a phone, mouthing “Eight-fifteen,” but Chief Hopper closes the door in their faces before she can see Jane's reaction.

When she calls as soon as the second hand ticks over to the allotted time, Jane does pick up on the first ring, screaming female singers so loud in the background Max can barely hear her whispered greeting. She has a smile in her voice, though, and even when Chief Hopper discovers them less than five minutes later and she hangs up with his obnoxious swearing competing with her blasting music in the background, her quiet, throaty laugh is so genuine Max lies awake for hours, letting it echo through her foggy mind as she strokes her throat and lets herself smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like to think that Max walked around for at least a period with El's make-up all over her neck before anyone pointed it out asljgl;shjfh also get you a girl who thinks you lot hot covered in smeared mascara and snot I guess  
> So I haven't had a chance to look at the reviews from last chapter but!!! Thank you so much for the kudos and comments!!! My heart is!!! Just so everyone knows this story was always supposed to include them dating and a story-line that comes with that, and it wasn't supposed to be this ridiculously loooooooong so I haven't decided whether I'm going to continue it here or make a sequel but this part of the story is wrapping up soon so look out for soft gfs!!!<3


	12. Chapter 12

The chiming of the egg timer on the counter makes Jane look away, and Max takes the opportunity to drink in the sharp angles of her profile as her eyes light up. “Time's up.”

“So I just rinse?” Max says uncertainly, twisting to look down into the porcelain bathtub they're perched on the lip of. She reaches up absently to scratch at the hairline along the top of her neck, and grins when Jane's hand bats it away.

Chief Hopper has been called in to cover an overnight shift for one of his officers, leaving a grounded Jane home alone for the night. When Max, shameless after missing her all day because of her suspension, had turned up at her door with homework from their chemistry class, Jane had pulled her into the trailer by her arm and hadn't let her go since. Keeping in the vein of their teen-age rebellion, they hadn't gotten to their chemistry homework yet; Jane had been watching MTV, loud enough to shake the light fixtures even though she claimed to hate every song, and they had mocked the hair bands's dramatic guitar playing and attempts at sexy looks as they'd danced around the living room, laughing until they'd had to drape themselves over the couch from exhaustion. When Max had mentioned, off-hand, that she had always wanted to dye her hair bright colors like the musicians on television, Jane had smirked mischievously and led her into the cramped bathroom of the trailer, and Max had been powerless under her wicked expression to do anything besides choose a temporary hair dye color from Jane's extensive stash hidden beneath the bathroom sink.

“So you're sure the same hair dye will work on red hair as it does on brown?” Max says, not for the first time, even as she rises with Jane from the side of the bathtub.

Jane rolls her eyes at Max as she picks up the box of dye. “I told you, darker hair you have to bleach, so it will be better in your hair, not worse. It's simpler chemistry to mix dye than the labs we do in school.”

“Yeah, well, we don't usually put lab experiments on our bodies,” Max mutters, and Jane's snicker is not very comforting. “All I'm saying is if my hair turns green like in Anne of Green Gables I'm getting your chemistry mark docked.”

“Anne of Green Gables?” Jane says with amusement, eyeing her in a way which makes her lean a little more heavily on the tiled wall beside the bathtub than she means to.

“It's a book,” Max explains. “This girl with red hair tries to dye her hair black and it turns green.”

“We're not dyeing your hair black,” Jane points out, slipping wrinkly white gloves over her hands as she walks back over to the tub. She nudges her forearm against one of the dials on the tap to start a thin stream of water. “Would green be worse than blue?”

“If it was supposed to be blue, yes,” Max says absently, watching Jane with glazed eyes. She'd changed into an overlarge, worn t-shirt and flannel pyjama bottoms between school and when Max had arrived, but her hair was still carefully styled and her make-up smoky and perfect, and the contrast of the two looks seems to combine the power each has over Max rather than dilute it. “Is it supposed to itch this much?”

Jane straightens and rolls her eyes. “I'm taking out the foils,” she says. She returns Max's raised eyebrow with one of her own as she pads around the redhead, and Max hopes that the other girl can't tell how wide her grin is from behind.

“So why do you have so many colors when you don't dye your hair?” Max asks curiously, much more confident in her ability to form coherent sentences now that she's not looking directly at Jane.

She begins to doubt this hypothesis when she feels Jane's warm fingers gently tugging the foil out of her hair. “I used to,” Jane says behind her, crinkling the tinfoil noisily. “My hair is dark so I have to bleach it to dye. It's annoying. Plus Hop told me not to, so I hid the colors I brought.”

Max laughs. “Is this going to give you away?”

“He doesn't need to know you're here,” Jane says with a smile in her voice. “And he never said I couldn't dye  _your_  hair.”

Max laughs so hard she rocks forward, and Jane whispers an apology when she pulls her hair accidentally. “Oh, yeah, he'll definitely let you get away on that technicality,” Max says, waving away her apology.

Jane snickers, the tinfoil crackling as she shifts. “Okay, time to rinse,” she says. “Bend over.”

Desperately hoping that her bright blush can be excused away by leaning downward, Max grips the lip of the bathtub with sweaty hands and kneels by the edge. She shakes her long tresses over her face beneath the tap, squeezing her eyes shut as the water hits the back of her head. “Cold!”

“Has to be,” Jane says, sitting the opposite way on the edge of the tub so that her warm outer thigh is pressed against Max's shoulder. She says something else, voice so soft it's almost lost in the rushing of the water, but she bends over Max's back and begins running gloved hands through her thick hair, and Max loses the ability to comprehend the English language.

Her face so hot she would be surprised if the cold water hitting it didn't create steam, Max leans her head into Jane's hands shamelessly. “ _Oh_ ,” she breathes, and then gets a mouthful of ice-cold, foul-smelling water and sputters, the world crashing back into her senses painfully.

“Don't talk,” Jane says, sounding amused as she draws her hands back. “You're done. Rinse out your mouth, but don't touch your hair.”

Max coughs, balancing one hand on the tap as she shovels water into her mouth with the other messily. She swishes and spits as Jane's warmth leaves her shoulder, and she lurks beneath the tap for a few moments longer than necessary to try to get her face under control before she has to look at Jane.

A scratchy towel is placed gently along her upper back, and she is forced away from the bathtub when Jane turns the water off. Without thinking she whips her hair back, and Jane shrieks, dancing away when Max turns around in alarm. She's laughing when Max looks at her, the arm thrown protectively over her face splattered with deep blue dye, and Max can't help her bark of laughter too even as she blushes so deeply she's sure she'll never be a normal color again.

“Max,” Jane laughs.

“Sorry, sorry!” Max says, but she can't stop laughing now, and they both lean against the counter, their cackling bouncing off the tiled walls around them.

“Did I mention I've never done this before?” Max says as her heart races at Jane's unbridled laughter, grinning sheepishly.

“It's okay,” Jane says with a smile. “It's always messy. When I dye Axe's hair he uses lots of colors and and it turns brown, so I look like I'm covered in mud.”

Max laughs, reaching up to run her hand through her hair before she thinks better of it. Jane gives her a pointed look and turns, lifting the towel around Max's shoulders to pat down her wet tresses.

“Conditioner, and then you're done,” Jane says, rubbing the towel into her scalp so hard it pulls her hair painfully, but Max doesn't feel the need to say anything because she's standing so close Max can feel the heat from her body, that unique, earthy scent filling her senses and blurring everything else around her. She follows obediently when Jane takes her wrist and leads her out of the bathroom, still so drunk on their moment of closeness she doesn't think about what Jane had said until she's watching her friend push back the couch from the coffee table.

“I know we're being messy, but isn't conditioner a bathtub thing?” she says, pointing her thumb in the direction they'd just come from and raising her eyebrows.

“You leave it in,” Jane explains, picking up a pillow from the couch and dropping it onto the floor. “Come sit.”

Max walks over, heart pounding so loudly in her chest she's sure Jane can hear it as she approaches,  and raises an eyebrow at her friend when she tries to sit on the couch and Jane pokes her side. “Cushion,” Jane says, nudging the pillow with her socked foot. “I need to be behind you. For the conditioner.”

“So I'm the one banished to the cold floor?” Max complains, mostly to make Jane snicker and roll her eyes again, and once the punk girl complies she sinks willingly to the cushion at her friend's feet.

Jane settles in behind her, and Max swallows painfully when one long, warm, flannel-covered leg drops casually to rest against her arm. Her knee is right beside Max's shoulder and she smells like fabric softener and tantalizing warmth and  _girl_  and Max is struggling to find the Herculean strength to move away and save herself when Jane's fingers run through the underside of her hair and her mind clouds over.

"It's coming out nicely," Jane murmurs behind her. Max feels the gentle tug of a comb glide through her waves and she closes her eyes, tilting her head back with the pull of Jane's hand. She hums, drifting, and then snaps back to herself guiltily when drums crash suddenly on the television she'd forgotten they were supposed to be watching.

“Does nice mean not green?” she teases, voice shaking a bit more than she means it to as she draws her knees up to her chest and squeezes her thighs together, but Jane only snickers and tugs a little bit harder than before on the end of the strand she's combing. Max grins, trying to focus on the music video playing in front of them through the dangerously-seductive fog clouding her thoughts. “Why do you watch this if it's not your kind of music?”

“Something to watch,” Jane says. “The house is quiet. Do you want something else?” Her hands remain steady in their rhythm gliding through Max's hair, but the television flicks to a news broadcast so suddenly Max jumps.

Max whips around in amazement, not remembering she's between Jane's legs until it's too late. Her body tenses automatically, but she's locked in those tractor-beam eyes as soon as she turns around and she's powerless to look away. She hopes it can be excused away by amazement at Jane's display of power when her voice breaks as she says, “Was that you?”

“Turn around,” Jane says, raising an eyebrow even as she fights a smug grin, eyes bright and pleased. “You got dye on your sweater.”

Max swears, settling back against the couch as she wipes at the blue splatters on her shoulder. Jane snickers, pulling Max's hair back into her lap, and Max elbows her shin, trying to fight down a grin of her own. “Jesus, Jane, warn a girl before you break physics in front of her. All that power and you use it to change the TV channel?”

“Easier,” Jane says simply. The channel switches again to a children's cartoon, and Max can't help but laugh.

“Yeah, if I had superpowers I would use them to avoid moving, too,” Max says, basking in Jane's low snicker. “Is it hard, not using your powers all the time?”

“Not hard,” Jane says thoughtfully, resuming her rhythmic pull through Max's tresses. “Different. Hop has lots of rules to be safe. I forget sometimes. We were always running away, but I never had to hide them from everyone before, when I was with Kali.”

Her voice is wistful, and Max's heart squeezes painfully. “Are you really not even allowed to talk to them?” she says softly.

“For all of our protection,” Jane says. “If Kali and I are together we're easier to recognize. Hop says I'm  _hiding in plain sight_  now that I'm in the system and they can find us through each other. We have to stay separate for now. While they're looking.”

“Jesus,” Max breathes. “That must be really hard.”

“My friends don't like rules and call sometimes when Hop isn't home,” Jane says. “Only a few times since I got here, though. I want them to be safe, but I miss them.”

Max starts to shake her head before Jane tugs on her hair in warning. “That's complete bullshit. You were taken away from the people you care about when you needed them most, after those lab people came after you, and now you can't even talk to them? It's not right.”

Jane laughs, bright and unexpected, and Max's heart swells so much she swears she can feel it bruising against her ribs. “My sister would like you.”

“You mean Kali?” Max asks. She has to stop herself from turning around again, and she blushes with her whole body as she settles stubbornly against the couch.

“Yes,” Jane says with a smile in her voice. “She's my family. She understands, all the things no one else can, and she took care of me. That breathing I made you do after Billy hurt you, she used to calm me down with that when I had nightmares about Papa.”

“Wow,” Max says, raising her eyebrows. “Well, tell her thanks from me, it helped a lot. She sounds like she's really awesome.”

“She is,” Jane says, and the wistfulness is back in her voice. “Hop is nice, but I can't wait for the year to be over.”

“What?” Max twists around without thinking again, and Jane scrambles to catch the mass of her hair before it falls, frowning. “Are you – What's happening in a year?”

“I'll be an adult,” Jane shrugs. “Hop can't protect me any more. I'll graduate from high school, finish my probation, and disappear again. They'll always be looking for me, but it should be long enough that they'll lose any leads they have. Hawkins was a safe place to hide until it cooled down.”

“But -” Max struggles for words, feeling strangely betrayed. “You're just going to disappear again? I thought you weren't talking to Kali because it was too dangerous, and you're, what, going to go back and live with her?”

Jane tilts her head, hands pausing in Max's hair uncertainly. “After it's safe.”

“You said it's never going to be safe,” Max points out. A small part of her mind is begging her to stop overreacting to what is really none of her business, but anxiety is wringing her stomach painfully and she has to stop herself from wrapping her arms around Jane's legs to keep her pinned to the couch.

“Safer,” Jane says softly. “Hop saved me from being caught this time, but Kali is my sister. Where else am I going to go?”

“College,” Max blurts out, scrambling. “You're crazy smart, you could get a degree as Jane Hopper. Be a normal student, do all the things those bastards tried to keep you from doing.”

Jane smiles at her, and it's so soft and glowing it warms every tensed muscle in her body until she relaxes against the couch, even though she still wants to be upset. “I get to do that now,” Jane says quietly, watching Max with warm eyes as she runs her fingers through the full length of a thick strand of blue hair. “And I'm learning. But classes, other students, rules, it's a lot. I don't know if I could do college. And Principal Gibbons says that they would never accept me with my record.”

“Gibbons can eat shit,” Max says, but with Jane's beautiful tractor-beam eyes on her there's no anger behind it. “I get that it's overwhelming, though. Well, I don't, but I get that I can't get how overwhelming it is.”

Jane laughs, soft and throaty, and Max presses closer without thinking, greedy for her. She's reminded for the second time that she's sitting between Jane's legs when her chest brushes Jane's inner knee with her eager movement, and she's not sure whether Jane drops her hair in surprise or because Max scuttles backwards abruptly, face burning, but they both gasp and dive forward to catch her mass of blue waves before it hits the couch.

“Shit,” Max says breathlessly, ducking her head and wishing for a gateway to hell to open up beneath her yet again. “Shit, did I get it anywhere?”

“No,” Jane whispers. Max can't see her with her own head bowed, which is probably a good thing, but she feels those careful hands over the towel Jane had wrapped haphazardly around Max's hair to catch it, and her heart hammers in her chest hopelessly. “Sorry.”

“No, that was my fault. Probably should have learned my lesson about hair-flips from the first time in the bathroom.” Max turns her back on Jane carefully, face still flaming, although she allows herself a tiny, besotted smile at Jane's hesitant giggle. She feels Jane slowly pull the towel out from her hair and run her fingers gently through the underside, and she closes her eyes. “Are you really going to just disappear?” she whispers, words drawn out of her by Jane's hypnotizing touch before she can stop them.

“It's safest,” Jane whispers back. “Hopper can't protect me inside the system after I'm eighteen, but Kali and I can protect each other outside. I still... We can come and see you, though. If we're not being watched. Where are you going to college?”

Max wraps her arms around her knees to stop herself from turning around again, chest burning with Jane's countless suns at her words. “I haven't gotten any acceptance letters yet, but I always planned to go back to California. My dad's there, and I want to live by the ocean again. Would you really – It wouldn't put you in danger? Can you be sure?”

“No,” Jane says, carefully digging at a knot in Max's hair with her comb. “We're never sure. But safe as possible. Even though Kali always says it's no fun if there's no risk. Drives Mick crazy.”

Max laughs, heart racing with possibilities. “My dad lives in a really quiet neighbourhood, you could stay with him if you came down. Or if you were just looking for a place to hide out. People aren't as nosy about your business down there, it's a lot more relaxed than Hawkins.”

“Would your dad let six punks he doesn't know stay with him?” Jane says curiously.

“There's six of you?” Max says, and Jane has to tug her hair to keep her from turning around again. “Including you? Kali, Mick, the guy who burned his eyebrows off -”

“Axe,” Jane laughs. “He will be so mad that's what I told you about him.” Max is feverishly grateful that Jane can't see her face as she glows at the implication that she might meet Jane's friends. “Mick is our protector, Funshine is our warrior, Dottie doesn't have powers but she needed a new family, like me and Kali. We protect each other, like your party.”

“You're part of the party, too,” Max points out absently, settling back against the couch as she tries to absorb this new scrap of Jane's life. “We're no super-powered street punks, but we'll definitely still protect you from anyone trying to find you.”

“I know,” Jane says softly, a smile in her voice. Her fingers slide leisurely through Max's hair, wet strands falling between the digits onto the towel across her lap with her gentle caress.

Heart pounding so desperately she's sure Jane can hear it over the cartoon soundtrack on the television, Max swallows around the sudden dryness in her throat, a direct contradiction to the molten heat pooling in her belly, and blurts out the first thing her Jane-fogged brain can think of to stop the rest of her body from melting in the heat of the intimate moment. “It's really great to have another girl in the party, too. The boys never know how to talk to girls, especially girls they like, so you and me are the only ones who have stuck around with their dumb asses so far.”

Jane's hands slow in her hair, and she has to consciously stop herself from leaning back into her touch. “Girls they like?”

“Yeah.” She realizes that 'like' might be too vague of a phrase, since Jane's slang vocabulary seemed understandably limited, and she tries to elaborate through the dreamy mist over her thoughts which only seems concerned with getting Jane's hands back into her hair. “Like, have a crush. Like as more than a friend.”

Jane's hands were motionless in her hair now, fingers clamped around the ends so tightly Max does tilt her head back to prevent Jane from pulling it out of her head. “More than a friend with the boys?” she says, voice as tight as her grip on Max's hair.

Worried, Max dares to turn again, shifting to her knees to avoid any inadvertent touching as she meets Jane's gaze. Jane's brown eyes are wide, the dark universe within them seeming to absorb all the light from the room to reflect back at Max, and Max's stomach twists at the anxiety she finds there. “Just – Just Mike,” she says, but Jane's eyes only get bigger, her shaking lips falling open the way they had outside the principal's office, and Max's stomach drops heavily, internally cursing herself. “Shit, you didn't know?”

“No,” Jane whispers, looking lost. Her grip on Max's hair has relaxed, but her fingers are twisting the strands worriedly in her lap as she watches the other girl with her big eyes.

“Hey, it's okay,” Max says, reaching for her without thinking. She's still wearing the wrinkly gloves covered in blue hair dye, so Max wraps her hands around her bare wrists, surprisingly delicate without her tough leather accessories. Jane visibly relaxes, shoulders falling like she's just let out a deep breath, but she chews her bottom lip as she stares at Max silently. She looks how Max had felt under Jacob's hopeful gaze, and Max squeezes her arms reassuringly. “Mike would never pressure you, if you don't like him back that's fine,” she adds.

“Is -” Jane glances down at her lap, and then back up at Max with doe eyes, “Is that why I'm in the party?” she says quietly.

“ _What?_ ” Max can't bring herself to care when her heavy hair falls onto her chest as she swings forward, weaving their fingers together over the sticky gloves as she stares up at Jane resolutely to let her see the truth in her eyes. “No, Jane, Jesus. No. We're your friends. We all l – care about you, and our party takes loyalty very seriously. You're amazing, and that doesn't hinge on whether you want to make out with Mike. You're our friend for as long as you want to be. Even after you go back underground.”

Jane's lips quirk up on one side into a little smile, cheeks pink beneath her make-up as she looks down at their joined hands. “All of you?”

“ _All_ of us,” Max says emphatically. “Including Mike. He's a really good friend, and he takes his white-knight thing really seriously. Weirdly serious, to be honest.” Her stomach unclenches, just a little bit, at Jane's snicker. “Although he might kill me after he finds out about this. I really am a worse wing-man than Dustin. Sorry, I just thought you could tell.”

Jane watches her fingers play with Max's, tractor-beam eyes hidden beneath her lashes. “Kali says I'm terrible at knowing when someone likes me,” she says quietly.

“Oh god, me too,” Max laughs. “Apparently Jacob's been flirting with me for months and I didn't notice until Mike pointed it out to me.”

Jane's jaw clenches, and her hands freeze in Max's embrace long enough to make her frown with confusion before they begin their slow caress again. “Jacob who?”

“Cassidy, the guy who was following us around at the museum,” Max says, eyebrows furrowing with concern even as she basks in Jane's light touches. “He's in A.V. Club.”

“Do you like him back?” Jane whispers, rubbing her thumb over Max's knuckles and spreading midnight-blue dye across her skin.

“Ugh, no,” Max mutters before she can stop herself. She should feel guilty, but Jane looks up quickly at her words and meets her gaze with those bright, dizzying, tractor-beam eyes, and Max has to focus all of her energy on not falling backwards onto the cushion. “He's cool, but just as a friend,” she adds, barely knowing what she's saying as a slow, lop-sided grin spreads across Jane's face and she feels an answering one stretch her own lips. “Apparently everyone in A.V. knew except me, so I kind of feel like a dick.”

Jane snickers, all anxiety gone from her disorienting brown eyes as they flicker between their intertwined hands and Max's face. “Not a dick,” she says quietly, squeezing their joined fingers.

“Yeah, and no one's going to think you are for not liking Mike, either,” Max says, returning her squeeze. “Trust me, I broke up with Lucas years ago, once you're in with these guys, you're in. You even have a solid D&D character, which I still don't have, so you might be more in than me.”

“A solid D&D character?” Jane says curiously, tilting her head and wrinkling her brow in a way which makes Max lean heavily on the couch in front of her.

“Dungeons and Dragons,” Max says. Jane frowns at her slightly, and Max grins a bit helplessly, dropping her gaze to their hands to give herself a moment to conquer the sudden, almost-irresistible impulse to kiss her. “Yeah, I didn't think your badass punk friends would play D&D,” she says, forcing a breathless laugh as she stretches her fingers between Jane's. “It's a role-playing game, where everyone makes a character and you go adventuring through a story someone called the Dungeon Master makes up. It's nerdy, but it can be pretty fun. The boys were really into it when they were younger, and they would always play the same kind of character because it reflected their personality, which is why we call ourselves the party. You saved us with your badass powers, so you're our mage.”

“Mage,” Jane repeats with a smile in her voice. “What's yours?”

“I usually changed mine from campaign to campaign,” Max says with a shrug. “Mike's a really good DM – Dungeon Master – he'll walk you through creating a new character whenever you want. That's always the most fun, to me, designing the character and developing their personality and stuff. They were already married to their classes by the time I moved here, so they never cared that I changed mine all the time, although it still bugs Mike when I say I'm the group's zoomer.”

“Zoomer?” Jane says curiously. Max can feel that intense gaze burning into her, but she still doesn't trust herself to look up.

“I made a joke when I first became friends with them and Mike was explaining D&D to me like it was the Bible,” Max laughs, watching dizzily as Jane traces meaningless shapes over the back of her hand in blue dye. “I was riding my skateboard, and I said I'd be the group's zoomer, and Mike made the mistake of being mad about it not being a real thing in the game so I still call myself our zoomer to annoy him.”

Jane laughs, quiet but genuine, and Max revels in her like she's the California sun. “Will I play?” Jane asks, turning Max's hand over to trail her finger over the lines on her palm.

“If you want to,” Max says. She can feel Jane's innocent touch  _everywhere_ over her body, and she's utterly, willingly mesmerized as lines of lightening crackle over her skin in the pattern Jane is tracing like she's a Tesla ball. “Mike just wrote a new campaign, I'm sure you still have time to join,” she continues, barely conscious of what she's saying as she stares at Jane's hand moving over hers.

“Mike will still want me to join?” Jane sighs.

Max swallows, settling her backside on her heels shakily as she slides her hands over Jane's again. Of all times to lose herself to the  _thing_  in her guts, she's furious with herself for giving into it while Jane is already dealing with unwanted romantic attention. “Of course,” she says, clearing her throat when her voice comes out more gravelly than usual. “He will, Jane. I can't promise he's going to be okay right away, but he's your friend. And, hey, we have this rule in our party: friends don't lie. So he'd want you to tell him.”

“Friends don't lie?” Jane says quietly. She looks up from their hands to Max's face from beneath her eyelashes, and Max's backside finally sinks back down to the cushion shakily.

“Yeah,” Max sighs. Her hair flows off of Jane's lap and onto the couch with her movement, but neither of them take any notice. “Well. We have a lot of rules in the party, but hopefully they're not as hard as Chief Hopper's.” Jane smiles, and her stupid heart throws itself against her ribcage desperately. “Tell you what,” she adds, those tractor-beam eyes drawing words out of her mouth without letting them pass through her brain again, “I'll talk to Jacob if you talk to Mike. It'll be easier if we make a pact to make sure we follow through. That's another rule, we don't break promises, ever.”

“Don't break promises, and don't lie,” Jane says softly, watching her with warm eyes. “Good rules.”

“Yeah,” Max says, swallowing nervously. “So. I promise Mike will still be your friend no matter what. Do you promise to tell him how you feel, if I tell Jake?” She slides one hand out of Jane's and holds up her pinkie finger, raising her eyebrows.

Jane's hand hovers where Max has left it as she scrunches her eyebrows together, looking lost. “Yes. Is that like the middle finger?”

Max blushes, curling her hand into a fist. “No. It's a pinkie swear. To cement a promise. Kids used to do it in California. The boys use spit, but boys are gross.”

Jane grins, biting her bottom lip as her eyes flit from Max's fist to her blushing face. She curls all of her fingers into her palm except for her pinkie and bumps the finger against Max's knuckles, eyes bright. “Oh. I swear.”

“Like this,” Max laughs, unfurling her fingers to hook their pinkies together. She meets Jane's smiling eyes and moves their hands up and down like a handshake, cheeks burning in the intense heat of her gaze. “All right. Now we have to do it. Promise.”

“Promise,” Jane echoes, smile as bright as the countless suns behind her eyes. Max isn't sure which one of them was still moving their pinkies up and down, but she certainly wasn't going to be the first to move away.

The slam of a car door outside the trailer shocks them out of their daze. They barely have time to exchange horrified glances before the lock clicks on the front door and they watch the handle turn like they're in a horror movie.

The door slams shut abruptly, and they can hear Chief Hopper's muffled swearing through the wood. Max jumps to her feet in a panic, and Jane copies her, the couch scraping across the panelled floor noisily as she lands on her socked feet with wide eyes. Max glances around the room frantically, searching for an escape route. “I thought you said he was working all night!” she hisses.

“Open the door, kid,” Chief Hopper calls irritably. “I know they're in there, I see the car out front.”

Max freezes, and then grimaces, turning to Jane apologetically. Jane bites her lip, gazing at Max for a long moment, and then her head jerks slightly and Chief Hopper stumbles through the door, hands still wrapped around the handle. He grumbles under his breath and straightens, slamming the door behind him, and Max might have laughed if his face hadn't been so thunderous.

Jane looks at her with wide, panicked eyes, and she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “Well, that's all your homework you missed, so I hope my notes help but I just stopped by to -”

“Drop off your notes at 11:30 at night and show off the new dye job that hasn't even dried yet?” Chief Hopper growls, and Max's mouth snaps shut. “Don't even try it, kid.”

“I'm -” She pulls her hair hastily over her shoulder, as if that will make Chief Hopper forget that he saw it. “No, she didn't do anything, I came over -”

“Don't make it worse, Max,” Chief Hopper warns, and she scowls at him but shuts her mouth. She glances at Jane, who's frowning at Chief Hopper, looking much less panicked than she had a moment ago as her eyebrows pinch together adorably over her confused eyes.

“You said all night,” she says, and Max winces at the accusation in her tone.

“Oh, yeah, that's the problem with this scenario,” Chief Hopper snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. Jane glares back, and Max stamps down the urge to stand in front of her when Chief Hopper's eyebrows furrow over dangerously-narrowed eyes. “I wouldn't give me that attitude right now, kid,” he warns.

“Look,” Max says. She's not really sure what she was planning to say, but they both do look at her, so she rambles on, “I'm sorry, sir. I really did come over to give her homework. I haven't seen her all day, because of her punishment for helping us, and we were catching up. We lost track of time.”

Chief Hopper raises his eyebrows, unfolding his arm to point from Max to Jane. “See, this is the kind of stuff I want you to learn from these new friends, not this sneaking around and rebellion business. I could use a little bit less of the guilt-tripping, though,” he adds, looking over at Max with a frown.

“Just the truth, sir,” Max says, raising her hands placatingly.

“Friends don't lie,” Jane says softly, and Max smiles at her.

“Then what was that little dramatic presentation when I first walked in?” Chief Hopper says with raised eyebrows.

Max winces, letting her long hair fall in front of her face. She hears Chief Hopper sigh before he says, “Listen, I came home to tell you I got some good – advice – from another parent, and I think you've suffered enough. You clearly haven't learned your lesson about listening to me, but you're already being punished at school and you shouldn't be kept away from your friends. I was angry when I grounded you, and then too stubborn to go back on it. You do your suspension and quit using your powers at school, and you're ungrounded.”

Max looks up in amazement, but Jane is still looking at Chief Hopper with suspicion. “What other parent?” she says.

Chief Hopper's cheeks flush, and Max's eyebrows rise. “Does it matter? I can ground you again, you know.”

Jane rolls her eyes. “He likes Will's mom,” she says to Max. “Did she yell at you?” she adds to Chief Hopper with a grin as Max's jaw drops to the floor.

“You really want to play this game  _right now_ , kid?” Chief Hopper shoots back, raising his eyebrows significantly.

Jane scowls and crosses her arms over her chest, clamping her mouth shut resentfully. Max glances back and forth between them as they share a long look fraught with meaning, baffled, but Chief Hopper's glare when he turns away from Jane towards her makes her wipe the curiosity off of her face. “I think you were on your way out, Max,” he growls.

“If I'm not grounded, does that mean Max can stay?” Jane says, stepping forward hopefully.

“No, Max cannot stay after 11:30 on a school night when you have an in-school suspension in the morning,” Chief Hopper says with an eyeroll. “But she can come back another night.” He looks at her expectantly, and she nods and turns away to head towards the door hurriedly.

Jane joins her by the door as she's pulling on her boots. “Your hair is done, it should wash out after two washes,” she says quietly, eyes trailing over Max's waterfall of hair appreciatively. “The dye on your hands, too,” she adds with a grimace. “Sorry.”

Max grins at her. “No problem. It's temporary anyway. Sorry if I got it all over... everything.” She gestures around the trailer vaguely, and Jane snickers. “Sorry if I got you in trouble, too,” she adds, lowering her voice and glancing at Chief Hopper, who was glowering at them from the kitchenette.

Jane rolls her eyes. “He's always like that. He thinks the bad men will find me if I don't eat enough vegetables.”

Max laughs, looking away from Jane reluctantly to start the zipper on her long coat. “Hey, if you're ungrounded, we're all going to the arcade for an event on Halloween,” she says, pulling her long hair up to pool inside the hood of her jacket. “You like video games?”

“I don't know,” Jane says, eyes bright with interest.

“We can show you, there's a lot of types so we can find something you like,” Max says. “Plus there's this big hallway with uneven floors and sharp corners on the way to the bathrooms, it's awesome for skateboarding when it gets too cold outside. It's not big enough for much besides tricks, but it'll give you a place for another skateboarding lesson if you want.”

“Skateboarding anywhere other than designated areas is illegal, Max,” Chief Hopper says loudly from the kitchenette.

“Oh.” Max raises her eyebrows at Jane, trying not to smile when the other girl covers her snicker with her stained glove. “I definitely don't board there, then.”

Jane snorts, eyes dancing with mischief. Max winks at her as she reaches up to adjust her scarf, and then stumbles in surprise when Jane flings her arms around her while her hands are occupied. She hesitates for only a moment before she wraps her arms around her friend, holding her breath so that she doesn't get a nose-full of Jane's scent again and lose her head, but Jane's lithe body pressing against hers, even through her coat, is enough to make her knees so weak she leans against the door behind her shakily when Jane finally lets her go.

“Halloween,” Jane says, light from her constellations practically bursting from every pore as she smiles at Max with a tilt of her head.

“Yeah,” Max says, mind too foggy to process what she's agreeing with. Jane is still standing far, far too close, and the breath Max inadvertently takes after she speaks fills her senses with Jane's earthy, intoxicating scent, so thick and cloying Max's eyes drop to Jane's lips of their own accord.

“Good night, Max,” Chief Hopper calls.

Max's body jerks, and she blushes so deeply she sweats inside her heavy coat. “Uh, good night, sir,” she calls back, and rolls her eyes at Jane when the brunette grins mischievously. “Night, Jane,” she adds softly, flashing her a smile as she turns towards the door before she can do anything else to humiliate herself. “Congratulations on the shortest grounding in the history of the world.”

“Thank you,” Jane says earnestly from behind her, and her heart aches more with longing than with how violently it throws itself against her chest to get to Jane. “See you, Max.”

“Soon,” Max grins over her shoulder. “The whole party's going to be there, right?” She raises her eyebrows.  
“Yes,” Jane says, glowing softly in the doorway.

“Oh my god,” Hopper yells from inside the trailer. “You're not going to the Halloween party if you don't close the door in thirty seconds, kid!”

Jane rolls her eyes, but her smile is brilliant and dizzying as she steps back into the trailer and pushes the door shut, and Max carries the light of it in her chest all the way to her own dark, silent bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it makes y'all feel better this chapter has to exist to set up the dating part of the fic which is coming so soon (next chapter is a two-parter, all I'm saying) so please don't kill me!!! ashkshjskshfk  
> I haven't had time to read them yet, but in case you didn't see in the coffee shop AU my writing's taking forever because I'm dealing with Some Shit right now and this has made me feel better than I have all week so I appreciate anyone from the elmax fandom who's still here for some reason!!!This chapter is dedicated specifically to @DJJenni who always leaves the most bomb-ass comments on every chapter and whose *screams in gay* describes my entire gay existence ashljshghlshksk I hope you enjoy the fluff!!!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ashljshjfqshj;dfl listen I'm sorry about the dramatic gestures in this chapter, I feel like I wrote an episode of one of El's soap operas you people are going to be AGHAST  
> Part 1 of 2!!!

For a long, petty moment she considers just not answering the tapping at her window, but she swallows thickly and presses pause on her video game anyway. Glancing at her bedroom door to make sure her step-father hasn't heard the noise and won't come crashing into her room to investigate, she crawls over the bed and slides the window open without looking, and then jumps when it's Will tumbling onto her messy covers with shallow breaths and not Lucas's usual heavy thumping and swearing. Raising her eyebrows, she watches him scuttle across her mattress silently, shivering with the cold October air he brings with him as he carefully avoids getting his too-big winter boots on her covers and settles on the edge of the bed.

He meets her confused eyes with his big, earnest ones. "Hey."

"Uh, hi." Max crawls back towards him slowly, concern softening the irritation that's been tightening her chest since the end of the school day. It's almost impossible to be annoyed with Will, and although she'd been prepared to give Lucas an earful about how saying she was _not in the mood for company_ and jumping into her car alone without another word should be enough of a hint to stay away, she finds herself swinging her legs over the edge of the bed beside her smallest friend. "What's - How did you get here?"

"Biked," Will says, still slightly out of breath. He shivers again, looking down at his muddy boots.

Max blinks at him. "Will. It's October thirtieth."

Will shrugs and says nothing. Max stares at him for a moment longer, utterly baffled, but he's still looking at his boots dripping onto her carpet in silence so she says, "Look, when I said I didn't want to hang out tonight, that didn't mean I couldn't pick you up instead of you risking freezing to death to get across town."

Will smiles a bit, but he keeps his eyes on his feet. "I was coming to see you, anyway."

Max tries not to wince outwardly, even though he's not looking at her. She knows the boys are concerned about her, but she doesn't have the energy to pretend that she's fine and she can't exactly explain her guilt and long-suffering fury at the situation. Even though she's exhausted and frustrated and so guilty she can feel bile climbing up the back of her throat at the very thought of why Will is here, soft brown eyes containing entire galaxies within them swim behind her eyelids and her stomach twists with such longing her body jerks a bit on the bed; she knows there is only one person who can make her feel better today, and she doesn't deserve that kind of comfort. She opens her mouth without knowing what she is going to say, but Will continues, "I need to tell you something, before I tell everyone else."

That makes her pause. She tries to meet his eyes, but he's keeping them resolutely on the floor, and alarm quickens her heartbeats as she watches him twist his mittened hands in his lap. Unsure, she blurts out, "If you confess your feelings for me too I'm calling it a day and going back to bed."

Will grins, but he bounces the heel of one boot off the toe of another anxiously. "No," he says quietly, and twists his upper body to look away from her. "Can I play?"

"What?" She watches with growing confusion as he reaches across the bed to pull her second controller from its spot atop the console. He stays silent, turning away fully to face the television as he pulls his mittens off and places them carefully by his side, and she reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder. "Will? You're freaking me out."

She regrets her words immediately when he winces. She jerks her hand back quickly, the self-hatred already burning through her stomach rising and crashing like the ocean during a storm, but Will grabs her fingers without turning around and keeps them there, as gentle as always even as he keeps his back to her. "It's okay," he says. "Just one game?"

"Okay," she says slowly, crawling around him awkwardly to keep their hands intertwined and sliding her feet off the edge of the bed. He releases her hand and holds out her controller, his eyes staring resolutely at the TV screen as she settles beside him, and she watches him out of the corner of her eye as she grips her controller and swallows a thousand questions. She's not exactly the first one her friends turn to for comfort or soft words, and she has no idea what Will could want to tell her separately from the party, but as she watches his big, anxious eyes stare at the screen without seeing she can understand wanting something else to focus on when he needs to deal with whatever would make his hands shake so much he can barely hold the controller, the same way she uses her skateboard. She starts the game and scrolls through the menu, nudging him cautiously. "I mean, if you biked across town to get your ass kicked I guess I can't stop you."

Will smiles, and his shoulders relax just a bit as he watches her select from the menu. He stays quiet as the game announces its start with triumphant 8-bit music, though, and Max can't help but worry  she's said the wrong thing again as their controllers click in the silence. Will has never been as good at exchanging insults in friendly competition as the rest of their friends, even as he laughed along with them, and she wishes feverishly for Mike or even Lucas as they rush forward in the game and sit ram-rod straight on her bed.

She's considering whether to toss her controller and throw her arms around him or give up completely and call Mike when Will says, "Was Jacob a dick to you?"

Max's stomach sinks; so that was what all of this was about. Her friends must have elected Will to come and check on her, knowing he was the one she was least likely to kick out on sight. "I don't want  to talk about that," she snaps, smashing the buttons on the controller harder than necessary.

"Okay," Will says softly. They play in silence for a long moment before he says, "But Lucas wasn't, right?"

Max throws down the controller, rage like she's never felt towards Will spiking in her chest. "I definitely don't want to talk about that," she says with dark warning in her voice as she twists her upper body towards him.

He keeps playing, eyes glued to the screen, but his hands are shaking badly now. "Not  _about_  Lucas, but - You had to tell them the same thing, right?"

"Will," she says, the guilt in her stomach as sharp and slow as a knife, "Don't. I told you guys -"

"I'm not here because of them," Will says quickly, hunching his shoulders as he smashes the buttons in a way which she's sure is not condusive to playing the game. "I just - I understand what it feels like, to not be able to like someone in the right way -"

"Get out," she says over him. "I don't need you telling me what to feel, any of you, if fucking Lucas put you up to this -"

 

“I'm gay,” Will says.

Max freezes. Will continues playing the video game as the world stops spinning for an agonizingly-long second and then starts back up without her. "What?" she croaks.

Will lowers the controller to his lap, face flushed as he stares resolutely at the screen. "I like boys, like I'm supposed to like girls," he says quietly.

Max stares blankly, uncomprehending, her whole body tensed so tightly she aches everywhere. The thing in her guts twists dangerously, and she blushes on reflex. The only thing she can think of to say, childishly, is  _You're not supposed to say that out loud_ , so she clenches her jaw so that the thought can't escape. Will's hands shake so badly the controller rattles, and she reaches out without thinking and wraps an arm around his shoulders.

He finally looks at her then, a small smile pulling at his lips even as he looks up at her with cautious eyes. "I've kind of known for awhile, but I didn't know how to say it," he says, shrugging self-depreciatingly in her grip.

Max nods, trying to think of what to say as her head spins dizzily. A cautious kind of hope is blooming in her chest, and she feels like she needs to be careful of the way she reacts to this news. Will would be the last person to be cruel enough to joke about this with her, but her mind can't seem to catch up with what he was saying fast enough to believe that it was really happening. "I'm sorry I got mad," she says, and then grimaces. "I mean, I thought you were here about Jake, I wouldn't have overreacted if I'd known about... This."

"I know," Will says, and he's smiling softly now. "The rest of party doesn't know I'm here, I promise. The guys all went home, and I didn't see Jane all day."

Max blushes, stupidly, at the mention of Jane's name, but she ploughs forward hurriedly at Will's grin. "Well, I'm glad you told me," she says, squeezing his shoulders, and the cautious hope balloons in her chest when he leans into her embrace and exhales. "That's pretty huge. Still not worth almost freezing to death, though."

Will laughs, leaning his head in her shoulder as one thumb slides over the buttons on his console idly. "Would you have come over if I'd asked you?"

"There are other people in Hawkins who own a car, wastoid," she says, and she feels his body shake with quiet laughter. "Hey, Will, seriously." He pulls back a bit to look up at her, but she keeps her arm around him, squeezing his shoulder and trying not to quiver too hard with the nervous energy coiling in her belly. "Thanks for telling me."

Will smiles at her softly, big eyes searching her face. "Thanks for listening. So we're cool?"

"Yeah, of course we are." She musses his hair like she's seen Jonathan do and he laughs, ducking out of the circle of her arm. He shoves her playfully and she shoves him back, and they grin at each other a bit nervously until the video game blips loud enough to make them jump.

They both snicker, and Max reaches over him to grab his controller. "Am I the first person you told?" she asks curiously, keeping her body turned towards him even as she scrolls through the menu to shut the game down. She has a suspicion creeping over the back of her mind of why Will came to her before the rest of their friends, and instead of making her guilty and defensive like it always has when he watches her too closely around Jane, the tightness in her chest is from cautious, impossible hope.

"I told my family, before Jonathan left for school," he says, settling back onto the bed much more easily than before. "I think they already kind of knew, especially Jonathan, but they were great about it. Mom bawled, but in a good way, you know how she is."

Max grins, picturing Mrs. Byers's reaction to such emotional news. Max has never seen a family who loves each other like the Byers, so she's not surprised that Will had no trouble telling them something so potentially dangerous about himself, although she has to stuff down a spike of jealousy for a petty split-second. "I'll bet. So you've known since the summer?"

Will looks down at his hands in his lap a bit shyly. "I've known since middle school, when the guys started talking about asking girls to the dance like it was life or death and I just wanted to hold Mike's hand."

Max feels this like a punch to the chest, and she flounders and latches onto the first thing she can think of, making a face. "Mike? Seriously?"

Will laughs, swinging at her arm in his pantomime of a punch, but his big eyes are still shy. "Shut up. He's nice. And cute."

Max rolls her eyes theatrically, just to make him smile. "Okay, whatever you s - Wait, do you still like him?"

Will blushes, hands twisting in his lap, and nods slightly. Max raises her eyebrows, thinking worriedly about her promise to herself to treat Jane as a friend until she can conquer her feelings with time, but as she watches Will's lips turn downwards a thought occurs to her which makes her stomach sink. "Shit, you had a rough day too, then, huh?"

Will looks up at her, eyes softening. He reaches out for her hand, and she lets him weave their fingers together. "Look," he says, expression earnest as he holds her eyes, "I was going to tell you all this before everyone else anyway, but I wanted to do it after I heard about what happened today. Everyone always feels sorry for the person who's getting shot down, but you're not the villain in this story. There's nothing wrong with not being able to like him back. Trust me. I get it better than anyone."

Max's ears are ringing, but she grips his hand painfully tight and forces herself to hold his eyes. "You get it?" she says, voice tight because there's no room for anything in her chest except the cautious, slightly-desperate hope she still can't quite convince herself to feel even after Will's confession.

“Yeah,” Will says softly, and she sees the truth of it in his eyes. “I know it's lonely, and there's no way to explain that it's not that you don't like him, you  _can't_ , because he can't get it, so you get to live with the guilt of hurting him just because of who you are.”

Max swallows, thinking of Lucas. “And you tell yourself you just don't like him, but you feel what he tells you you make him feel when you look -” she cuts herself off abruptly, looking down at her lap and letting her long hair fall over her face as she thinks of how another pair of hands in hers had made her feel lightening across her skin, even through wrinkly gloves.

Will squeezes her fingers. “I just wanted to tell you that I'm gay because I trust you, and I didn't want to feel alone any more, and I knew you were feeling alone today so I just -”

“I like girls,” Max blurts out.

Will stops talking, but he doesn't let go of her hand. In fact, nothing she'd half-expected to happen at her confession comes true; Will doesn't storm out, the walls don't start crumbling around her, the phone doesn't ring with Jane on the other end waiting to tell her how disgusted she is. Instead, Will squeezes her fingers as she exhales slowly, and the world keeps turning around them.

“Like I'm supposed to like boys,” Max whispers, copying Will's earlier words, and she sees him swing his legs onto the bed to face her through the curtain of her hair. “I'm -” She pauses, because this should be difficult to admit out loud, but the words tumble from her lips like they have always been there. “I'm a lesbian.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Will says softly.

She looks up to see him looking at her patiently, a small smile playing across his lips, and she finds herself smiling back. In her mind, this has always been an earth-shattering moment, something that would change not only how everyone saw her but how she saw herself, but she just feels like the nervous energy which had been coiling in her belly has peaked and crashed through her body like a glassy wave on the ocean. “I didn't steal your thunder, did I?” she jokes, tilting her head back to give Will a real grin.

He laughs, shaking his head with a grin of his own. “No, I always kind of thought, and I was hoping you would want to tell me, too, so that we could talk about it and stuff. I love my mom, but I don't really want to listen to her, like, talk about sexuality or something.”

Max laughs, a bit surprised at how easy it is. “So this was your plan all along, Will the Wise,” she teases, and he rolls his eyes at her good-naturedly. “Here I thought we were having a moment. Although, now that I can, I've gotta say, I'd listen to your mom talk about sexuality -”

“Ugh, Max, Jesus,” Will complains, tugging his hand away from hers and scuttling backwards across the mattress, and Max laughs so hard she clutches her stomach with both hands as she rocks forward. Laughing feels so good, so freeing, and she's more still cackling about the fact that she told a sexual joke about a  _woman_  in front of someone than anything else when she finally looks up to see Will watching her with a soft expression, shoulders relaxed as he lounges on the other side of her bed comfortably. When their eyes meet he grimaces theatrically, and she's laughing again, howling much louder than the situation calls for as he groans and tosses a pillow at her.

Her laughter is cut off abruptly as the doornob jiggles and creaks. “Maxine?” her step-father's stern voice calls through the door, and Max and Will exchange panicked glances. “What did I tell you about keeping this door locked?”

“Uh, sorry, I was changing,” Max blurts out, wincing in Will's direction as she leaps off the bed. “Give me one second.”

“Why were you laughing so hard?” her step-father says, voice muffled by the door.

“Television!” Max shouts as Will dives into her open closet. She clicks the closet door shut as quietly as possible and tugs off her jeans, trying to kick them down one leg and step into a pair of pyjamas with the other. She does a little wiggle to get the elastic over her hips and opens the door, trying not to look as out of breath as she is. “Uh, just some dumb sitcom. What do you need?”

He narrows his eyes at her, and she tries not to flush as her stomach clenches automatically. “What I need,” he says quietly, each word enunciated separately and carefully, “is quiet in the house, Maxine. And a little bit more respect than what I'm getting. Remember not to lock your door for long periods of time, or it's getting taken away completely.”

Max swallows, nodding as her fingers sink painfully into the doorframe. “Yes, sir. Sorry. I was just headed out to the arcade, anyway, so you won't have to worry about noise again.”

“In your pyjamas?” he says suspiciously.

Max tries not to wince. “Uh. No. I just decided after the show ended, so I haven't changed yet.”

He looks at her for a long, tense moment, then steps backwards. “Fine. Don't lock your door.”

“Yes sir,” Max says breathlessly, and swings the door shut as soon as he turns away.

Will pushes the door of the closet open as she turns back to the room, eyes wide and understanding. She rolls her eyes at him, stomping over to snatch up her discarded jeans. “Since we're both gay you don't mind if I change, do you?” she whispers, but the joke falls flat with her step-father's presence still hovering over them.

Will smiles at her anyway, turning away politely as she hooks her thumbs in the waist of her pyjama pants. She can't help her sarcastic smile when she taps his shoulder and waves her hands over her newly-donned trousers, but the knots in her stomach loosen just a bit as his eyes meet hers again.

“Meet me out front, I'll drive you home,” she whispers. He nods, turning to gather his mittens from the bed as she pads over to the window to slide it open. He climbs out silently, but he holds her eyes as he goes, only breaking their gaze when he absolutely has to turn around to drop to the ground.

Max takes a deep breath and shuts the window quietly. As quickly as she can, she grabs her keys and runs for the front door, throwing her coat over her shoulders and trying to pull both boots over her feet at the same time when she reaches the front closet. She calls good-bye to her step-father and shuts the door before he can answer, grateful to see Will already in the passenger seat of her car. Shivering in the cold, she runs across the lawn and throws herself into the car, the soft glow lighting in her belly suddenly making the frigid temperature more bearable when she turns the ignition and Jane's mix tape bursts to life through the speakers.

Will watches her silently as she pulls out onto the street, and she glances at him to make sure he sees her roll her eyes before turning her attention back to the road. “I don't want to talk about him,” she says with finality.

“Add it to the list,” Will says with a small smile. “You still don't want to talk about today?”

Max makes a face at him, but she thinks back to the crash of relief in her belly at saying the words she'd been dreading out loud, and she sighs. “How much do you know?” she says softly.

“Just what Mike told me,” he says apologetically.

Max winces. Jane had fulfilled her end of their bargain apparently as soon as she'd walked into school that morning, finding Mike before her suspension had begun and informing him of her feelings, or lack thereof, before she'd been sequestered to the office for the rest of the day. Mike had been, predictably, moody all day, spending their shared Algebra class with his cheek pressed against his desk, passing her despairing notes and not even pretending to watch the board, and Max had been so understanding that Lucas had pulled her aside suspiciously to ask what was wrong with her. Luckily, her understanding of how Mike felt about Jane never being able to return his feelings had another plausible explanation; after spending most of the day avoiding him and feeling guilty whenever she saw Mike's gloomy face, Max had cornered Jacob in the hallway and tried to channel Jane's unending courage, and the whole science wing had witnessed how well he had taken the news.

“I still don't see what the big deal is,” she grumbles, shoulder-checking for an unnecessary amount of time to avoid looking at Will. “I mean, 'leading him on?' I barely talked to him outside of A.V.”

“I don't think Jacob knows there is an outside of A.V,” Will jokes, and it feels good to laugh at the boy who had screamed in her face in front of half of the senior class, even if it's not entirely accurate. “He was just embarrassed, I don't think he talks to a lot of girls.”

Max sighs, leaning back in her seat as she accelerates gratuitously down the empty road. “It just brought back everything with Lucas, who actually had a reason to be mad at me,” she says softly, watching the street as she feels Will's eyes bore into her. “And that expectation on their faces, it makes me nauseous every time. Not that this happens a lot, but it feels like it accumulates every time, you know?”

“I know,” Will says gently. “It's a horrible feeling, and it doesn't help when someone actually tries to make you feel bad about it.”

“It's so stupid,” Max grumbles, pumping the brake pedal to the beat of the punk song that's playing as she waits at a light. “I don't yell at girls for not returning my feelings, I would never expect that, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Will says with a sigh. Max glances at him as she accelerates through the light, worried she'd made him think of Mike, but she's surprised to see him smirking slightly as he fiddles with the volume on the radio. “Speaking of girls and returning feelings, is this another band of Jane's?”

Max blushes furiously, hands slippery on the steering wheel as Will snickers. “Don't start that shit,” she says, and he laughs outright. “I'm serious, Will, just because we're in this secret gay club together doesn't mean you can embarrass me in front of her.”

“I won't,” he says earnestly, and even though he's still grinning she believes him. “I knew it, though, especially after I saw you two together at the museum.”

“God, am I that bad around her?” Max groans, and Will's answering laugh is not very comforting.

“You're fine,” he says kindly, which is somehow worse than if he'd made fun of her, because it means she really is that bad. “Although you don't have to be embarrassed, she's way worse than you.”

Max frowns, heart sinking as he smirks at her. “What do you – Who is she worse for? Did you see her with someone?” She had thought she'd avoided this when Jane had admitted to not wanting Mike, but she had only put off the inevitable, apparently not even for a day. She tries, and bit frantic, to think of who she's heard Jane mention besides their friends in their conversation about boys the precious day, but she can't seem to remember anything besides the feeling of lightening across her skin from Jane's fingers.

“Max, slow down,” Will says, and she blushes brightly and eases her foot on the pedal to bring the car back to a more legal speed. “I just meant you, wastoid, remind me not to say anything important while you're driving.”

“What does that mean?” Max says, confused, even as she keeps her focus apologetically on the road.

“It means she likes you so much she can barely take her eyes off you,” Will says with a grin in his voice. “It would be cute, really, if it wasn't so sad. I wonder if she thinks you're dating one of us and that's why she hasn't said anything, wouldn't that be so -”

Max pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to him, eyes blazing. “Will. Don't.”

Will looks between her and the road, angelic face confused. “What?”

“Don't joke about that,” she says, letting her voice break as she stares him down seriously. “Anything else, but not her.”

Will looks at her for a long moment, and then says, “I'm not joking, Max.”

For the second time that night, her ears are ringing because of something Will has told her, but the hope with which her stupid, desperate heart throws itself against her ribcage is anything but cautious. “What?” she says, because she needs to hear him say it again, needs to hear the actual words from someone who would never hurt her to confirm she'd really heard what she did and the words she hears echoing in her clouded brain aren't a lovesick hallucination.

“She has a crush on you, Max,” Will says slowly. “Bad. She can be hard to read most of the time, but she lights up like a Christmas tree whenever you walk into the room. Jonathan says punk culture is a lot more accepting of people like us, so I don't know why she hasn't said anything, but it could be because of the look on your face right now so I'm going to stop talking.”

Max has no idea what her face is doing, but she has no room to care, because her body is suddenly burning with countless blinding suns and she has no room for anything else. She shifts restlessly in her seat, and her heart speeds wildly as strands of blue hair fall into her hazy line of vision. “I – What?” she says again.

Will is smiling at her softly. “I knew you guys were dancing around each other, but you really never even considered it, did you?” he says. “I didn't know you felt this strongly about her.”

Max swallows around her suddenly-parched throat; she doesn't think she can form the word for how strongly she feels about Jane. “But she's -” She shakes her head, dazed. “Even if she was like us, you think she'd pick  _me_? No, there's no way.”

"Max, of course she would," Will says, reaching out for her hand.

"No, I'm not looking for reassurance," she says, blue hair flying in a blur around her as she shakes her head. "I'm being realistic. She's so... God, Will, she's  _so_." She tilts her head back on the headrest and closes her eyes, grinning helplessly as she thinks of what Jane is. "You know?"

"Yeah, I know," Will says with a smile in his voice. His mittened hand covers hers on the steering wheel, and she sighs, her burning chest too full to hold her breath. "But I also know that I would give everything I have for Mike to look at me the way she looks at you."

Max opens her eyes slowly, head rolling on the headrest to look at him. He's staring back at her, eyes wide and earnest, and the the truth she sees there sets every inch of her skin ablaze as if she's standing too close to Jane's overwhelming presence.

She swallows around the painful hope in her throat and says, "Are you sure?"

"As sure as I was about you," Will says softly, squeezing her fingers on the steering wheel. "But there's only one way to know for sure, for sure." He smiles at her, gentle but expectant in the glare of the headlights in front of them.

Max shakes her head slightly, overwhelmed, and turns back to the road. In the silence the complex run of the lead guitar on Jane's tape wails through the car, and she smiles without a thought. Will leans forward to turn the music up with the hand not covering Max's, and the pumping bass from the music matches the beating of her stupid heart as she throws the car back into gear and eases onto the road.

They drive in silence, comfortable and lost in their thoughts, and Max finds herself pulling into the Byers's driveway by muscle memory alone. She has barely turned off the car when Will unclicks his seatbelt and flings his arms around her, but she pulls him closer and encircles him in her arms without hesitation.

"Thank you, Max," he whispers into her ear, voice serious.

"Thank you, Will, seriously," Max whispers back. "I'm glad I know. And I'm glad you know about me. I didn't think I'd ever tell anyone."

"I'm happy you did," he says. "Hawkins blows, but it's easier when you're not alone."

Max laughs and squeezes him. He pulls back and smiles at her, big eyes reflecting the lights from the porch back at her, and she smiles back. "My bike's in the trunk, so don't take off until I get it," he adds, and she salutes him with two fingers as he pushes the car door open.

He pauses with one leg out the door, turning back to her with kind eyes. "Just so you know, you'll never be Jacob," he says quietly. "Even if you won't believe she could like you, you'd never make her feel the way he made you feel. In case that's what's holding you back." He turns away and climbs out of the car without another word.

Max stares after him as he wheels his bike to the porch and gives her a little wave as he jogs into the house, and then stares some more after he closes the door, body frozen as her mind spins wildly. Only when a new song drifts over her ringing ears, the lead singer's voice low and seductive as she sings about wanting to do things which had made Max pause the tape on reflex the first time she'd listened to it, does she get thrown back into her body all at once and feel it burning, the heat of just the possibility of Jane's unexplored constellations searing her sensitive skin even in the frozen air, and she throws the gear shift into drive and peals across the pavement.

When she reaches the fork in the road at the end of the street, she doesn't hesitate as she turns away from her usual path back to town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The end*  
> snknsksnklshj;fh I'm kidding I would never do you like that!!! Part 2 should be up either tonight or tomorrow depending on how much I have to re-write when I read it over!!! Make some noise elmax fandom we're almost to the good shit!!!


	14. Chapter 14

Unlike every other time she has found herself at Chief Hopper's trailer, she doesn't hesitate before she goes up to the door.

She swings herself out of the car as soon as she's yanked down the hand break, the vehicle still vibrating with the last purr of the engine as it cools down, heart throwing itself against her ribcage so insistently in its effort to get to the trailer she feels like it's the one throwing her forward. She bolts across the lawn and up the steps before she has time to think, because she knows as soon as she gives herself half a second to consider this, just a moment to think it through, she'll be paralyzed, every reason not to do this mixing with the self-doubt and disgust always lurking just below the surface of her interactions with Jane until she is unable to do anything except stare in longing and turn Will's words over in her mind endlessly.

Thankfully it's Jane who opens the door to her insistent knocks. “Max,” she beams, sunlight pouring from every inch of her pale skin like she's trying to light up the whole black October sky from the doorway of the trailer. “Hop isn't home yet, but I think you could stay anyway, he was just mad yesterday.”

She reaches out and pulls Max into the trailer with a warm hand on each arm, and Max stumbles in, staring, because she sees it, that wordless, helpless longing, the need that lives inside of her and keeps her coming back willingly to burn up in Jane's countless suns. She hadn't recognized it until Will had told her to look, because in Jane it's beautiful and it's directed at _her_.

She digs her heels into the mat by the door far too close to Jane, close enough to breathe in that earthy, cloying scent and feel the rush of heat from the pink blush glowing beneath her make-up. “Max?” Jane says, quietly, breathlessly, and her eyebrows furrow in the adorably confused way which makes Max's foolish heart turn over in her chest. Her hands are still gripping Max's forearms, and when her thumbs brush over the sensitive inside of her wrists Max lets out a shaky breath and lets the need which spreads through her body from the spot Jane touches her bloom over her face. Jane's eyes widen, but she doesn't step away; her thumbs brush over Max's skin again as she leans infinitesimally closer, brown eyes searching Max's face with the same reckless hope which has taken up residence in Max's throat and prevents her from breathing, let alone saying anything.

“Max?” she says again, tilting her head so that the tip of her nose hovers just in front Max's, so close it blurs in the shorter girls' already-hazy vision.

Max tries to think with the _thing_ twisting her guts for the first time in her life, attempting to let Jane see what she feels as plainly as she sees it in those endless dark eyes, and it tugs her forward into Jane's body and then she's kissing her.

Her hand pulls away from Jane's to cradle her chin reverently, tilting her face to fit their noses together as she leans in. Jane's lips are warm, parted just slightly in surprise as she presses against them softly, artlessly, and even though it's the simplest kiss she's had since middle school as soon as they touch she sees Jane's galaxies burst behind her closed eyelids. She feels Jane's sharp intake of breath more than she hears it, and she moves her lips over Jane's eagerly, all heady instinct as her bottom lip drags across the patches of chapped skin she's fantasized about more times than she cares to admit. Thankfully Jane seems to come back to herself and kisses her, dropping Max's other arm and winding her elbows around the back of Max's neck to pull her impossibly closer as her lips slide eagerly other the other girl's. Max can't stop her moan, can't make herself want to, and she kisses Jane with abandon, drunk on her taste and her scent and her overwhelming presence and the reality that she was kissing Jane Hopper, and more impossibly, Jane Hopper was kissing her back.

If she ever comes back to her own galaxy after kissing Jane she might be embarrassed by her wheezing pants when Jane pulls back slightly to breathe, but she giddily thinks that she doubts this is something she'll ever come down from. “Max,” Jane gasps, leaning their foreheads together as her heavy breaths puff against Max's wanting mouth. “ _Oh_.”

“Jane,” Max groans, voice gravelly, and just saying her name makes her lose her head enough to pull Jane back into a deeper kiss. She wraps an arm around Jane's waist and pulls her against her shaking body, lips sloppier now as they move over Jane's with more desperation than disbelief, but Jane only matches her enthusiasm, trailing saliva over Max's skin as she sucks the shorter girl's lower lip between her own and pulls. Even with their bodies pressed together so closely she can barely tell where she begins and Jane ends, even with her whole body crackling with countless suns so hot her hands are too slick to hold Jane's cheek and slide greedily over her skin, Max tries to press closer, tries to drink as much of her in as she can, tries to burn the memory of how every inch of Jane's body lines up with every inch of her own even though her clouded, over-saturated brain is still trying to process the reality that Jane is _kissing_ her.

Jane's insistent lips press against hers again, and again, and even though she's slow and luxurious as if revelling in every inch of her lips Max has never quite recovered from the previous kiss by the time the next one sweeps her away. By the time Jane pulls back, just enough to tease the end of Max's nose with the tip if her own as she breathes shallowly, Max is so intoxicated it takes her a long, embarrassing moment to realize that the lights buzzing above them, so bright they flicker ominously on the brink of burning out, are real and not just her overloaded senses reacting to their kiss. She blinks dazedly and meets Jane's gaze through her lowered lashes to see the punk girl blushing pink as a California sunset, and the lights fuzz and slowly dim back to their normal glow.

“Sorry,” Jane says quietly, the blinding brightness from the room now shining in her brown eyes, and they giggle breathlessly together.

“Holy shit,” Max breathes, even though it is not nearly what she'd meant to say. Jane's lips, smudged and bruised from Max's kisses, twitch up into her little lop-sided smile, and Max dizzily forgets whatever it was she'd been planning to say in the first place. “Jane,” she whispers, running a slow, reverent thumb over Jane's sharp cheekbone, and the only thing which keeps her legs from giving out from under her is those tractor-beam eyes when Jane leans her face into Max's touch. “Wow.”

Jane smiles and leans in to kiss her again. Max is just starting to relax into the kiss when Jane backs away, reaching around her while she stands frozen with her lips pursed, eyes closed. “Come here,” she says quietly, and Max hears the door behind her click shut before those warm, electrifying fingers weave with hers and pull her forward gently. She follows obediently, padding after Jane before she finds the strength to open her eyes again, although she's glad Jane is leading her because she's certain she'd never be able to leave that spot under her own power.

“Yeah, sorry,” Max says breathlessly, barely knowing what she's saying as her whole, weak body burns from inside and out with Jane's closeness. “I should have had, uh, some sort of plan or speech or something.”

“A speech?” Jane says with amusement, leading her downward gently with a tug on her fingers. She collapses shakily and is grateful to feel the couch cushion beneath her, because she still can't open her eyes but she would have gone anywhere Jane had lead her.

“Yeah,” Max says, mostly because she can't seem to remember any words besides _Jane_ right now, and opens her eyes. Jane is curled up on the couch beside her, knees pressed against Max's thighs as she tilts her head and gazes at her with those wide, starlight eyes, and Max leans in and kisses her again.

Jane smiles against her eager lips and kisses her, the hand not intertwined with Max's rising to cup the back of her neck behind her hair. Her lips glide over Max's, the soft touch trailing fire over her swollen mouth and across her quaking body, and Max groans, pressing forward greedily and wrapping her arms around Jane as she lets herself feel the full power and fury of Jane's constellations, finally, finally.

By the time they fall back just enough to breathe each other's air they are hopelessly entangled, Max's arms wound so tightly around Jane's body that the taller girl's sweater rides up her back, Jane's eager fingers tangled in Max's hair as her leg slides over both of the other girl's in her effort to get impossibly closer. Max can feel Jane's chest heaving against her own, and her words are slurred as they escape her wet, bruised, grinning mouth without checking with her clouded mind. “I can't believe you're here,” she says hoarsely, tightening her arms around Jane's back and inadvertently making their bodies slide against each other just enough to make her vision blur.  
“I live here,” Jane murmurs, sounding almost as dazed as Max feels as she twists Max's waves between her fingers and leans their foreheads together.

Max laughs, a bit hysterically and surprising them both, the glow she always feels in Jane's presence suddenly feeling too much to be contained in her weak body. “Fuck, you're so amazing,” she mutters and kisses Jane, but she's grinning too widely to do more than press their lips together for a heady moment. “I mean here, with me,” she says lowly, nuzzling Jane's nose with her own as one hand glides over Jane's back reverently. “I'm so crazy about you, just totally... God, Jane, you have no idea.” She laughs again, all the pent-up energy she's had since first laying eyes on Jane coiling in her belly and making her too dizzy to do anything but press herself against Jane greedily.

“I do,” Jane murmurs, sliding their noses together tantalizingly as she cradles the back of Max's head with a sweaty hand. “I'm crazy about you, too. I like you so much.”

Max laughs again, because this is clearly not actually reality, Jane Hopper pressing closer into her embrace as she tells her she likes her, too, but she hopes she never finds her way out of this new universe where this is even a possibility now that she's here. “Jane,” she grins, giddy, and leans in to kiss her again.

Jane tilts her head and kisses her harder, lips sliding over Max's and parting them with her own. Max gasps, and Jane takes advantage of her open mouth to slide her tongue along the other girl's bottom lip, tantalizingly sinful and slow. The moan which tears from Max's throat vibrates through both of their bodies, and Jane pins her against the back of the couch with a sudden urgency, the hand on the back of her head sliding around her jawline to cup her cheek as Jane covers her body with her own and kisses her deep and wet and so devastating Max can do nothing but arch into her.

“Max,” Jane breathes into her mouth, and kisses her again, slow and luxurious. “You're so good.”

Max has no idea whether she means at kissing, or in general, but she can't seem to find the words to ask, or any words at all, so she slides a slick, shaking hand up Jane's back and presses her closer. Their tongues slide together, tentative at first but with growing confidence as fingers clutch and breaths shake at the movement, and Max drowns in her, each kiss only making her hungrier for the next.

Jane rolls her lower lip over Max's top one as she begins to pull away, and Max fists her hands in her sweater and tugs her back immediately, kissing her greedily. Jane smiles into the kiss, raising both hands to cradle Max's face as she moves her lips willingly over the other girl's, but she peppers smaller and smaller kisses over her mouth until she barely brushes their lips together and pulls away, panting heavily. Max tries to give a moan of protest, but she can only make a breathless whine that gets strangled in her throat so she leans her head back and amends that they may need a moment where their mouths aren't occupied.

Definitely just a moment, though, she thinks dizzily, as her eyes flutter open and she sees Jane, beautiful face flushed as she leans in so closely Max can feel her rapid breaths against her cheek. Her eyes are closed, long lashes shivering as she ducks her head to lean their foreheads together, and the words escape Max's tingling, longing lips while she's occupied trying to use her limited brain power to keep her own eyes open. “You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.”

Jane's eyes open, just enough to look at her from beneath her full lashes, and the heat from her hazy, unfocused eyes melts everything in Max's body down to the searing, dangerous liquid heat pooling in her belly. “You think I'm beautiful?” she whispers.

“You're so beautiful I can't think,” Max says, stupidly, and decides that is enough time between kisses and reaches up to lead Jane down to her with a hand on her cheek. Their mouths are wilder now, swollen and wet with each other's saliva as they meet drunkenly again and again, and Max's toes curl in her boots when Jane cards her fingers through the hair at the base of her neck and sinks her teeth into her sensitive bottom lip.

“You're beautiful,” she whispers into Max's panting mouth. “You're amazing.”

Max can only groan, hands sliding down to Jane's lower back and pushing their stomachs together as she kisses Jane deeply. She can feel every detail of Jane's lips she'd shamelessly drank in with just her eyes for months moving and sliding and pressing against her own, the curve and dip and rough patches from Jane worrying them with her teeth, and each brush sends sparks of electricity over her already-burning skin. Her hands are as greedy as her lips, moving over Jane's back and trying to map the slight curve of her spine, the bony angle of her shoulder blade, the graceful curve of her waist, utterly, gratefully, lost in her gravitational pull.

She's the one who pulls back this time, only from necessity as the too-full feeling in her chest combined with Jane's lips on hers pulls any breath she'd had from her lungs. She stays close, burying her face in Jane's shoulder as she gasps for air, and Jane holds her fiercely, pressing a kiss into the top of her head before burying her own nose in Max's temple. Despite every one of her senses being intoxicatingly, overwhelmingly filled with Jane, Max is still so surprised to see the other girl really in front of her when she catches her breath and pulls back that the room spins.

“So you might have picked up on the subtle detail that I like you as more than a friend,” she blurts out, because Jane is so beautiful, sitting in front of her with sweat-smudged make-up and blushing cheeks and dark, endless eyes, and she has no idea what to do with herself.

Mercifully Jane smiles, her abused lips twisted up on one side as her eyes drop to her lap awfully shyly, considering what they had just been doing. “Yes,” she says, glancing up at Max from beneath her lashes, and Max slides down the couch cushion a bit. “Me, too. A lot.”

“Yeah?” Max says breathlessly. Her heart throws itself desperately against her rib cage at Jane's words, joy and disbelief blooming in her chest even though her mouth tastes like Jane's. Jane bites her bottom lip and nods, pulling Max's hand into her lap and weaving their fingers together, and Max can't help her stupid, too-wide grin. “Wow.” She wants to kiss Jane again, but she's locked in those tractor-beam eyes when Jane lifts her chin and smiles at her blindingly, and she suddenly can't imagine looking away.

“Wow,” Jane repeats, but her eyes are too bright and earnest to be mocking her. “I didn't think you would. Hopper said that was one of the things I should keep to myself here, liking girls. And I wanted to be your friend.”

“Hopper said you shouldn't tell me?” Max says, forehead pinching in confusion, but she's so happy she doesn't think she'll ever be able to frown again.

Jane shrugs, sending flashes of lightening across her skin as she sweeps her thumb over Max's hand innocently. “He said I shouldn't tell anyone. I don't know much about the world outside of my sister and friends, and they never cared that I like girls, but Hop said that not everyone is like that and it would draw attention to me, which is exactly what we were trying to avoid.”

Max raises her eyebrows. “So he was okay with me finding out you have _psychic powers_ , but not that you like girls?”

Jane snickers, but her cheeks flush as she looks down at their joined hands again. “He didn't want you finding out about that, either,” she points out. “And he said people weren't like that in Hawkins, and I liked you by then so I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

Max watches her for a long moment, mesmerized, and then bursts out laughing. Jane looks up at her in surprise, and she does lean in this time to kiss her, raising the hand not entwined with hers to cup her cheek worshipfully as she presses their lips together. “I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, too,” she grins, leaning their foreheads together and basking in the fire burning through her whole body. “This was so dumb.”

“Friends don't lie,” Jane says softly, stroking her thumb along Max's knuckles.

“Yeah, this is probably a good example of why we have that rule,” Max laughs, nuzzling her nose dizzily. “God, you're pretty.”

Jane grins and tilts her head to kiss her softly. Max wraps an arm around her waist to pull her closer, deepening the kiss greedily when Jane tries to pull away, and she's just opening her lips to Jane's probing tongue when the door bangs open and they scramble apart hastily. Blushing down to her still-curled toes, Max looks over the back of the couch to see Chief Hopper staring at them, eyebrows practically at his hairline as he stands frozen in the open doorway.

After a long, deafening pause, he slams the door closed and steps into the trailer, massaging the premature age lines on his forehead with his thumb and pointer finger. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Do you listen to anything I've ever said to you, or is it just like the Charlie Brown parents when I talk?”

“Charlie Brown?” Jane says in confusion, while Max covers her burning face with her hands. “I listen to you, _you_ said no other girls in Hawkins like girls.”

“Well, congratulations, kid, you found the other lesbian,” he growls, bending down to untie his work boots. “That doesn't mean it's any safer, so I wouldn't go taking this show on the road. Actually, I'd prefer if it wasn't the first thing I saw when I walked into my own goddamn house after a long day at work, either. You're cleaning the couch again, by the way.”

“Oh my god,” Max groans, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes so hard it stings. Jane wraps her hands around her elbows and pulls gently, and Max can feel the sweat from her own palms on her heated cheeks as she lets Jane tug them down.

“What's wrong?” she says softly, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Her worry is so adorable Max floats for a heady moment, eyes dropping thoughtlessly to Jane's frowning lips, but she jumps when Chief Hopper answers. “Kids generally don't enjoy making out in front of their parents,” he says, and the only reason Max doesn't cover her face again is because Jane is still holding her arms. “Which is why she's not coming over while I'm at work any more. And no sleep-overs.”

“We've never had a sleep-over,” Jane points out, and Max presses her flaming face into Jane's shoulder, breathing her in and trying to escape back to the universe where they were kissing and nothing else existed, especially Chief Hopper.

“You're killing your girlfriend, kid,” Chief Hopper says with a grin in his voice.

Max's whole body tenses at the word _girlfriend_ , heart pounding painfully as every inch of her crackles with lightening like a Tesla ball. Jane strokes her back lightly, clearly not falling apart like Max is as she settles back against the couch with her arm around the blushing girl. “Max?” she says softly.

Max swallows and looks up, finding a small smile for Jane even as her blush rages freely. “It's okay,” she says, and Jane's shoulders relax visibly with relief. “Just embarrassed. He's – he's not wrong, though, we probably shouldn't, like, announce this at school.”

Jane shrugs, looking much less bothered by this thought than Max feels. “We should tell our friends, though?” she says thoughtfully.

Max nods, leaning her head on Jane's shoulder just because she can. “Yeah, the party is safe. And they'd want to know. And -” she pauses, playing with Jane's fingers shyly, “I want them to know.” She's surprised at how true this is, no doubt or hesitation in her mind despite her belief that she'd never tell anyone about herself that she'd held until only a few hours ago, and she glows, burrowing further into Jane's embrace.

“Me, too,” Jane says quietly, and kisses the top of her head.

“These are the kids that found out about your powers?” Chief Hopper says, and Max jumps so high her head collides with Jane's chin. She tries to scramble backwards, face glowing for a much different reason than a moment ago, but Jane pulls her back against her body, snickering.

“Yes,” she says to Chief Hopper.

“Okay,” he says with a frown in his voice. “They obviously aren't gossips, and if you think they'd be all right with it that's fine. But I'm not just telling you to be careful because I'm an asshole, you really don't need any more trouble or reasons to fight.”

“I know,” Jane says. There's a long pause where the Hoppers exchange a look Max can't see, but she's too distracted by Jane's finger twirling in her long hair to look up.

“Fine, you did good, kid,” Chief Hopper says eventually, his voice much softer than before, and Max does look up with surprise this time. “Max has to go now, though.”

“But I'm not grounded,” Jane protests, dropping Max's hair to wrap an arm around her shoulders as if shielding her from Chief Hopper.

“No, but that doesn't mean you can have people over at all hours of the night,” Chief Hopper says with an eyeroll. “You're seeing her tomorrow, you two can be apart for a couple of hours. Plus Halloween is always chaos for law enforcement, I have to go to bed and I'm definitely not leaving you two alone on that couch overnight.”

Max blushes, but backs away from Jane's arm reluctantly. The lights flicker ominously, and they all glance up before Chief Hopper fixes Jane with a long-suffering glare. “Jane.”

“Fine,” Jane grumbles. Her pout is so adorable Max forgets she was getting off the couch until Jane rises, eyes warming as she holds out her hand. Max takes it, lost in the constellations in her eyes, and her heart pounds wildly in her chest when Jane keeps their fingers intertwined as they walk towards the door.

Max has to clear her throat before she can speak. “Hey, that's right, Halloween's tomorrow. You're still coming to the party, right? Want me to pick you up?”

Jane makes a face at her. “Hop wants to drive me. He says he wants to check that it's not the kind of party where he'll be busting me at the end of the night instead of picking me up.”

Max laughs, swinging their joined hands between them. “Well, we're definitely not going to be having _that_ much fun, so I think you should be good to go,” she smiles. “Just video games, and music, and lots of candy.”

Jane perks up. “Candy?”

Max grins, mind clouding over as she drinks in Jane's eagerness. Her eyes drop to Jane's lips, and she wonders dizzily if she'll ever be able to think of anything else now that she's tasted them. “Yeah, it's cool,” she says, barely knowing what she's talking about.

Jane's lips twist into her knee-shaking half-smile, and she steps into Max's space, squeezing their joined hands as she kisses her softly. Max drifts, lost amongst her stars, until Chief Hopper clears his throat loudly and she jumps backwards, blue hair flying in her vision as she blushes furiously. She hears Jane sigh, but Chief Hopper says, “Good night, Max,” loudly from somewhere closer than she'd expected, and she ducks her head and lets her long hair fall in front of her face to keep herself from looking at Jane and getting lost again.

“Good night, sir,” she says, and clears her throat. Jane squeezes her hand, and she smiles, running her thumb over Jane's knuckles reverently before reluctantly letting go. “Good night, Jane,” she breathes, and steps away from her warmth into the cold October night.

She's almost down the steps on shaky legs when she hears her name and turns around, surprised. Jane flings herself at Max before she can react, lips colliding so suddenly their teeth almost knock together, and it's only instinct which makes Max catch herself on the handrail as she immediately pulls Jane closer and kisses her back. Their lips move frantically, trying to fit all of their need and desperation into one kiss, and they're panting again when Jane pulls back, running her warm hands over Max's blushing cheeks before stepping back onto the porch.

“See you tomorrow, Max,” she says brightly, and then whirls around and slips through the door.

Miraculously, Max manages to make it on her jellied legs to her car, but she sits in the street in front of Chief Hopper's trailer for a long time, staring up at the winking stars and letting herself smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nervous gay spirit fingers* part 2??? oof I really hope it lives up to your expectations!!! We're into The Gay Shit now so this is kind of the finale of act one I guess, elmax is so extra and dramatic in this so I get to be too!!!  
> This chapter is dedicated to fake_you_out who has the best enthusiastic screaming and keysmashes and elmax love, I hope this bass-boosts your heart!!!  
> Your comments!!! Are the best!!! They keep me writing when I stare at these stupid chapters for days and hate them!!! I may or may not lose my internet in a couple of minutes but I will answer all of them when I can!!!<3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Holds a boombox over my head blasting "Don't you forget about me" outside all your windows* I'm so sorry!!! I just really struggled with this chapter I have no excuse

It is a mark of how completely the giddy, unbearable happiness is taking up too much space in her body for her to feel anything else that Will's amused expression doesn't bother her as he clicks the passenger side door shut behind him. "Happy Halloween, Max," he says with a knowing grin.

"Happy Halloween," Max says breathlessly, sweaty hands sliding on the steering wheel. "How are you?"

Will laughs, glancing at her out of the corner of his big, kind eyes as he buckles his seatbelt. "It's okay, I want to hear about last night."

Max's heart picks up speed in her already-aching chest at the thought of last night, and Will laughs again and squeezes her shoulder at the grin which spreads across her face, too big for her to form any words, as she tries to chase her rampaging thoughts into coherent sentences.

Still high in Jane's constellations hours after leaving her, Max had lain awake in her bed all night, head spinning as she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and grinned at the ceiling. She had wanted to fly on her skateboard, or speed around town in her car as fast as her heartbeat, or even run until her legs give out from under her, but her step-father had caught her coming through the door for once and jumped into a lecture about what time a young lady should be home after dark, and she hadn't wanted to risk his wrath if he caught her trying to leave again. Even her step-father couldn't ruin her impossible, burning, foolish happiness ballooning inside of her so uncontrollably she was surprised she hadn't floated off the bed, however, and as soon as it was light enough that she wouldn't risk Mrs. Byer's pre-coffee irritable confusion she had called Will, bursting at the seams. Although his excitement for her had been genuine, he had promised an afternoon of chores and errands to his elderly neighbour who needed help setting up for Halloween, and had left her with no one to talk to about her whole world tilting on its axis until she had to pick her friends up for the Halloween party.

"Will," she groans now, speeding down his empty country road much faster than is strictly necessary, "she's incredible. She was just as amazing and beautiful as she always is but she wanted  _me_  and she actually kissed me, it was like I was living someone else's life for a few hours."

"But it _was_ you," Will says, turning in his seat to watch her babble with a patient smile on his face. "You went right over there and told her how you felt even though it was a big risk, and it paid off. I'm really proud of you."

Max flushes, touched. "You're not going to say 'I told you so?'" she teases, shifting in her seat awkwardly.

Will grins. "Well, I still get credit for that," he says, and Max risks taking one shaking hand off the steering wheel to ruffle his hair. "But you did it, not me. Even though it was pretty obvious that she liked you."

Max's face heats up, whole body shivering at hearing Will saying Jane  _liked_  her so casually. "Shut up. Smug wastoid."

Will laughs, patting his hair back down from her affectionate mussing. "That's the best retort Max Mayfield can come up with?" he teases, and ducks away from her swatting hand. "This girl really did a number on you."

Max is a bit dizzy from how brightly she's blushing, but it's for a much softer reason as she thinks of what Jane does to her. "Yeah," she says, staring straight ahead so that she doesn't drive them off the road as her head spins dizzily. "She definitely did."

"I'm really happy for you guys," Will says, voice quiet but full of meaning. "Both of you. And I'm glad she's in our little gay club now," he adds with a smile, and Max's snicker is a bit more high-pitched and breathless than normal. "So what happened, exactly? Or maybe not exactly, keep the details to yourself."

It takes Max a moment to realize what he's implying, and when she does she almost crashes the car as the minimal amount of blood left in her brain floods to her skin all at once. "Will!" she bursts out, and Will laughs so hard he crosses his arms over his stomach, sinking down in the seat a bit even as he blushes lightly, too. "Jesus Christ," she says, and her shaky laugh is more from disbelief than humor as she eases her foot off the gas pedal and tries to steer by muscle memory while she emphatically does  _not_  picture what he was talking about. "What do you think we were doing? I just said I was a lesbian out loud for the first time less than twelve hours ago, give me a break, here."

"Sorry," Will says, although he sputters a bit at the end of the word and doesn't look sorry at all. "So if you weren't doing  _that_ , what happened?"

It feels good, joking about something she had made every effort her whole life to make herself pretend she didn't want as if it was normal, and she takes an extra lap around Dustin's street to give herself more time to go over every detail of her impossible night with Jane. She knows she's gushing, every last half-thought and brush of skin and overwhelming  _feeling_  pouring from her grinning lips like a stream of consciousness, but Will's smile is soft as he sits silently and listens, and she finds that her rampant blush is from the memory of Jane's warmth and not embarrassment.

She parks the car in Dustin's driveway only reluctantly, leaning her head back against the headrest and closing her eyes. “I'm still not sure it really happened,” she admits. “Like, I remember it, but I can't believe it, because it's Jane, you know? Not just that I actually got to kiss a girl, or that a girl could like me like I like her, but that it's  _Jane_. I feel like I shouldn't be this happy, like I'm reading too much into it or misinterpreting it or something.”

“Misinterpreting making out with her and declaring you're crazy about each other?” Will says, and Max grins without opening her eyes, sweaty hands lifting from the steering wheel to cover her face shyly. “You're allowed to be happy, Max. You deserve it. You both do.”

“Yeah,” she breathes, and shakes her head a bit in wonder. “It's just a lot to process. But in a good way, you know? I don't really know what to do with myself.”

“What you're doing seems to be working really well,” Will says softly. “She likes you. You should be happy about that, like anyone else.”

Max turns towards him, taking her hands away from her face to run them nervously through her hair. “Will, she  _likes_  me,” she says, and then bursts out laughing.

Will smiles at her inappropriate cackling and presses a gentle hand to her upper back. Max leans over and burrows her face in his shoulder, body shaking with glee and more energy than her body is able to handle, and he wraps his arms around her, grinning into her hair as she giggles insanely. She gets the urge to move again, wanting to leap out of the car and take off running down the suburban road or throw the car back into drive and take off at speeds that would guarantee Chief Hopper would ban her from ever seeing Jane again if he caught her, but she can't seem to collect herself enough to do more than lean into Will as much as her seatbelt will allow.

The door clicks open behind them. “Hey, are we hugging?” Dustin says enthusiastically, and another pair of arms are flung around her quivering body.

Will laughs, adjusting his arm around Max to make room for Dustin's body. Max shifts her own arm and slides it around Dustin's back, pulling him closer without raising her face from Will's shoulder; Dustin gave the warmest hugs. “Yeah, Dusty, we're hugging,” she laughs, voice as shaky as the rest of her as she lets him hug her closer.

“What's so funny?” Dustin says, giving them one last squeeze before drawing back to settle on the seat behind them.

Max and Will exchange a quick look before Max sinks back into her seat. “Uhh,” Will says, looking at her with wide eyes.

“Just thinking about how Mike is going to freak when he realizes I have blue hair with my  costume," Max says quickly, turning around to face the dashboard and reaching for the keys in the ignition to give herself an excuse not to make eye contact with Dustin.

Dustin laughs, loud and easy, and Max lets herself relax just a bit as she twists to check behind her and begins backing out of the driveway. "Yeah, I'm surprised that wasn't the first thing he said when he saw it," Dustin says, leaning his chin on the edge of Max's seat to grin at her. "He lost his shit enough when you wouldn't wear a wig."

"He always thinks I'm going to dress up in gowns and shit because I'm the girl," Max grumbles. "Funny how he never lets the group dress up as what I want."

"Because we'd all be dressed up as serial killers," Dustin laughs.

"No we wouldn't," Max says, making eye contact with him in the rear-view mirror with a wicked grin. "I'd be the serial killer and you'd all be my gruesome victims."

The boys laugh, and Dustin punches her shoulder gently enough that he doesn't jostle her hand on the wheel. "See, this is why we always go with Mike's ideas. And hey, we have another girl now! Maybe she'll take over the ball gowns for you."

"I don't think Jane is a ball gown kind of person, either," Max says, trying to keep her voice from sounding as breathless as she feels at the mere mention of Jane.

"Maybe not," Dustin agrees cheerfully, as Max pretends not to see Will grinning out of the corner of her eye. "But most of the groups we can do usually have one girl who wears dresses, it's not really his fault. You're lucky he never asked you to dress up as, like, Princess Daphne or something."

Max groans, taking one hand off the wheel to punch him in the shoulder as much as she can without taking her eyes off the road. "That's just because he had a huge hard-on for her when we were kids. He doesn't want to associate me with that, especially on his favorite holiday."

"You're ruining the best night of the year," the car choruses in mockingly-deep voices, and they all laugh.

She parks in front of Mike's house, and they all pile out of the car. Clusters of children with puffy winter coats peeking out from beneath their shiny store-bought costumes rove the streets, but it's still too early for the night to be in full swing. Mrs. Wheeler, a tiara perched atop her perfectly-curled hair as she bends over a clamouring crowd of children on the front porch, waves to them as they march across the lawn towards the back door, and Dustin calls a greeting before they disappear around the corner.

Lucas is already sitting at the gaming table with Mike by the time they trample down the basement stairs without knocking. "Hey, about time, losers, I was thinking I would have to ruin Mike's favorite day by kicking his ass at chess," he says with a grin as he rises from his chair, but his eyes are fixed seriously on Max as the group drop their bags on the table.

"Like Mike would ever be stupid enough to play you at chess," Dustin laughs, and he and Mike descend into an argument before they've even exchanged greetings.

"I'm fine, stalker," Max says lowly, raising her eyebrows as he wraps his big hands around her elbows, but she meets his gaze steadily to let him see the truth of it in her eyes. In the life-changing events of the previous night she has all but forgotten that she had been upset when she saw him last, and the real difficulty is trying not to look  _too_  happy has she steps closer to him with a smirk while he searches her eyes. "I'm over it. See what happens when you actually listen to me for once?"

Lucas finally gives her a real grin, and he lets go of one of her elbows to flick her forehead teasingly. "Don't get used to it," he says, and then pulls her in for a tight hug. "He's a fuckwad," he says softly into her hair, and she grins against his chest. "Want me to hit him with a foul ball or something on Monday?"

Max pinches his waist. "I can kick his ass myself, thank you very much," she mumbles, nose squished against his sweater in his tight embrace.

"Yeah you can," Lucas laughs, and finally releases her. She rolls her eyes at him, but when he wraps an arm loosely around her shoulders to lead her over to their friends she lets him.

Lucas and Dustin are just beginning to raise their voices over a debate of what the phrase "negative space" means when they party hears a soft knock on the outside basement door. "Do kids think there's more candy if they go to the other side of the house?" Dustin says, raising his eyebrows, then frowns like he regrets not thinking of it when he was trick-or-treating.

"Uh, that - that must be Jane," Mike says, and blushes faintly.

Max's heart speeds up pathetically. "I'll get it," she says quickly, and slips away from Lucas's arm to dart up the basement stairs, pretending not to hear Mike say in confusion, "But it's my house."

After she had hung up with Will, her immediate instinct to call Lucas and talk over her feelings had reminded her that, although she and Jane had agreed to tell their friends about their relationship, they hadn't agreed on how or when. She was certain there was no way she could pretend nothing had changed between them when she saw Jane again today in front of their friends, so she had hoped Jane could change Chief Hopper's mind and get permission to meet the party at Mike's instead of having her second emotional, private conversation in two days out in public. Chief Hopper had been the one to answer the phone, and although he had refused to let her speak to Jane, who was in the middle of completing some chores she'd been neglecting for the past few days in Max's presence, he had gruffly agreed to drive Jane to meet the party at Mike's house with the understanding that he would be keeping an eye on the arcade all night so they weren't getting out of him "finding out about anything stupid." He had hung up on her when she had asked about picking Jane up, but considering how helplessly she had fallen apart in the car with Will earlier, and how anticipation pounded in the base of her stomach like a second heartbeat as she climbed the stairs now, she admits that it may have been a good thing that Jane hadn't been in the car with Dustin before they had a chance to tell the rest of the party.

Even though she knows it's Jane behind the door, her heart gives a painful pulse when she pushes it open and sees the other girl standing there. Jane lights up when she sees her, starlit eyes brighter than the fiery sunset behind her, and Max takes a shaky step down the basement stares at the sight of her before she can stop herself, awed.

"Max," Jane says, smiling like she could possibly be feeling what Max does looking at her, and she holds out her hands.

Max glances down the stairs quickly, blue hair flying, before she turns back to Jane and trots up the stairs with a mischievous smile. "Hey." She takes Jane's hands and pulls her outside, glancing over her shoulder with eager, nervous energy as Jane follows without question, and tugs the taller girl closer by their joined hands for a kiss.

Jane presses closer immediately, tilting her head with a sigh as their mouths move together. Max flies, the need she'd felt earlier to run or drive or skateboard finally satisfied by Jane's lips against hers, although she knows she'll never be completely satisfied, never truly fulfill the need to kiss Jane just once more, never tire of the taste of her lips. Jane eases one hand away from hers to wrap an arm around her waist and deepen the kiss, and Max lets her, closing the space left between them without a thought as she kisses back with abandon. Jane's brilliant suns are so close it feels as if they are burning beneath her own skin, blinding her and scattering her thoughts like sunbeams across water so that she only has her overloaded senses to help her, and all they want is  _more_ , to feel more of Jane's skin beneath her fingertips, to breathe in nothing but Jane's scent, to taste more of Jane, deeper -

"Was it not Ja - What the fuck?"

Jane springs away from her, although she may have used a bit of her powers, because no natural force could have separated Max from the other girl in that moment. The next moment, however, when she flutters her reluctant eyes open and looks past Jane's wide eyes to see Mike's bright red, furious face, she stumbles backwards, feeling sickeningly like she has finally fallen from the new galaxy of Jane's constellations back to cold, painful reality.

"What the hell is this?" Mike yells. His hands ball into fists at his sides, and his glare is only for Max. "You think this is funny?"

"What? No," Max says in a strangled voice, her too-full heart constricting so painfully she's surprised she doesn't collapse at the feeling of it. Jane steps between them, but Mike is so tall he seems to tower over both of them in his rage.

"Oh, Mike, I can help you with her, you don't have to go off alone," he says in a high-pitched voice, rolling his glassy eyes as he cards one hand through his mop of hair, and Jane takes a cautious step towards Max as if backing away from a growling animal. "Oh, Mike, she thinks you're really nice, she appreciates your help soooo much. How long were you two laughing about this behind my back?"

"What?" Max says again, because her mind must have frozen in terror a few moments ago since she has no idea what these things have to do with Mike's fury at seeing what they really were.

“Mike, we wouldn't laugh at you,” Jane says quietly.

"Well, if you think you were helping by letting me make a fool of myself every day, you weren't," Mike snaps, not taking his damning eyes off of Max even when Jane speaks. “You really -”

“Mike,” Will's gentle voice says from the doorway, and although none of the rampaging fury drains from his face Mike's mouth snaps shut as Will places a hand on his wrist.

“Did you see what they were doing?” Mike says incredulously.

“Yes,” Will says. “Well, no, but I know. Let's talk about this downstairs.”

“You know?” Mike says, staring after Will with disbelief, but the smaller boy has already disappeared from the doorway. Mike throws her one last glare before turning silently to follow him, and Max is suddenly very aware of the bitingly-cold frosted grass beneath her socked feet.

Jane turns towards her and takes her hand, her fingers impossibly warm in the freezing October evening, although it may have just been Max's inappropriate love-sick interpretation of her even through the horror sitting heavy in her belly. “What do you want to do?” she says quietly.

Max gazes at her for a moment too long, letting herself get lost in those beautiful, endless eyes as she tries and fails miserably to absorb some of Jane's inspiring courage into her frozen body, and then squeezes Jane's fingers. “Let's go.”

Jane nods and returns her squeeze. They turn to pad silently through the door and down the stairway, and although Jane's tractor-beam eyes are not focused on her Max is certain the other girl's hypnotizing presence is the only thing keeping her upright.

The boys all look up when they reach the basement. Max automatically tries to pull her hand back from Jane's, but Jane won't release her fingers and she finds she's grateful. “Okay, everybody sit down,” Will says in his best placating voice, although it shakes as he walks away from Mike towards the girls. His face is pale, even paler than when he had had this conversation with Max, and she realizes with a fresh jolt of horror that not only was he feeling the same terror she was, but the person who he needed the most, his Jane, was glaring at them from across the room with angry tears in his eyes. She reaches out for him and pulls him firmly against her side with the hand not attached to Jane's, and although she can feel him shake against her now he looks up at her with a small, grateful smile.

“MadMax?” Lucas says cautiously, looking between the three of them with his eyebrows raised. “What's going on?”

“Why do you all look like you're about to admit to having a bunch of bodies buried in Mike's backyard?” Dustin says. He has his usual smile on his face, but he's eyeing them with confusion.

“Worse, Max and Jane were sucking face in my backyard,” Mike snaps, arms crossed over his chest as he glares at them down his freckled nose.

Max's stomach lurches, but Dustin only turns to Mike with his eyebrows furrowed. “Sucking face with who?”

“What do you mean, with who?” Mike yells, waving his arms emphatically at the two girls. “With each other, dumbass, they've been sneaking around behind my back like I'm an idiot! Behind all of our backs!”

“No we haven't,” Jane says, quiet but clear even through the anxious buzzing in Max's ears, and everyone turns to look at her. “We only started last night. We were going to tell you today.”

“What are you talking about?” Mike shoots back. “You call making out  _a room away_  telling us?”

“Okay, let's back up for a second,” Dustin says, lifting his hands with wide eyes. “Max and Jane were kissing? Each other?”

“You two were the only ones who were nice to me yesterday, I should have known something was up,” Mike says, glaring between Max and Will. “Max is bad enough, but you, Will? Why wouldn't you tell me?”

“Mike, it's not Will's fault,” Jane says imploringly, and even through her fog of panic Max admires her composure as she keeps a steady gaze on Mike when the boy stares her down. “Or Max's. Just listen.”

“Yeah, let's listen to the explanation for Max and Jane kissing,” Dustin adds.

“Oh, now you want me to listen, now that I caught you,” Mike snipes at Jane.

“Hey, you can be mad at me, but don't talk to her like that,” Max snaps back immediately, her spark of fury at him attacking Jane enough to melt the cold terror icing over her whole body.

“I am mad at you, thanks, I'm just mad at her too,” Mike shoots back, turning to Max with fists balled at his sides. “I'm mad at anyone I thought was my friend  _lying_  to me.”

“Did everyone miss the part where Jane and Max were kissing?” Dustin says loudly.

“Shut up,” Lucas bellows, and everyone stops. The party turns to look at him, but his eyes are focused solely on Max, and her stomach drops as she realizes, for the first time in years, she can't read them. “Everybody shut up and let them talk.”

“If everybody shuts up then they can't talk,” Dustin mumbles. It is a mark of how tense the room is that no one answers him; Lucas keeps his unfathomable eyes steady on her, and she's sure the only reason there are no tears in her eyes is that everything inside of her is frozen solid.

“It's not how it sounds,” she says desperately to Lucas, even though it is. “We – we only just -”

“We all talked it through last night,” Will says quietly. Lucas's eyes dart away without moving his head away from Max, and she swallows the cold, sickly bile creeping up the back of her throat. “Separately, but none of this had come up before yesterday after school, I promise. We didn't want you to find out like this, but we were going to tell you tonight before the arcade. We – we're -” He shakes under Max's arm. “I really wish you'd all sit down,” he says weakly.

“Max and I are lesbians,” Jane says clearly.

The silence following her declaration is deafening. Max is certain Jane's grip on her hand is the only thing keeping her upright, and the way Will is quivering against her she's not sure how he's still standing. Jane leans over to peek around Max's frozen body, and she feels Will nod minutely against her shoulder. “And Will is gay,” Jane adds, and Will sags against Max's side. “We all want you to know.”

“Then why didn't you tell us?” Mike says shortly, but the anger is gone from his voice.

“Hop told me not to,” Jane says simply. “For my protection. These two probably worried you would react the way you are now.”

Lucas and Dustin shift uncomfortably, and Lucas drops the steady, unreadable gaze he's had fixed on Max since Jane said her name. Stomach twisting painfully, Max looks from Lucas to Dustin, whose cheeks are flushed as he meets her gaze. “Like, gay as in homosexual?” he says curiously.

“Yeah,” Will says, barely audible even standing right next to her. “I like boys. I'm – I'm sorry I never told you.”

“Hey,” Lucas says, voice soft, and Max looks up to see him coming around the gaming table towards them, eyes as soft as Max has ever seen them as he looks at Will. “What have we said about you being sorry?” When he looks at Max a grin splits his face, and the relief which pours through her body all at once melts the ice inside of her so suddenly she sags into Jane for a moment. “Of course my MadMax gets a girl thirty seconds after she decides she likes them,” he says, and then gathers all three of them in a hug.

Even his long arms can't fit around them all, but they all crowd around him, leaning into his embrace as much as they can as they hug him back. Max squeezes her eyes shut, pressing her face into his chest to feel his familiar heartbeat as she shakes harder than ever with the relief pouring through her body like hot tea on the coldest day of the year. Jane tries to take her fingers away, but Max clenches her hand, fingers so slick with sweat they slip over the other girl's uselessly, but Jane seems to understand and weaves their fingers together solidly again, pressing their hands to Lucas's stomach.

She shouldn't be surprised that Dustin joins the hug almost immediately, but her smile against Lucas's chest is so wide she smears saliva across his sweater with how disbelievingly grateful she is to feel his familiar hand on her shoulder. “Half of my friends are gay,” he says wonderingly, voice muffled from behind Lucas's shoulder. “They really misrepresented the statistical possibilities of how many there are in a group.”

“It is common, outside of here,” Jane says softly, her mouth so close her breath ruffles Max's hair, and she squeezes Max's fingers when the shorter girl shivers. “Most of my friends are gay or bisexual, and we met lots more travelling.”

“Bisexual?” Dustin says curiously.

“Liking more than one gender,” Jane explains.

“You can do that?” Mike blurts out from somewhere beside Will. Max opens her eyes to see his arm wrapped around the back of Will's neck, although he's mostly hidden by the tangled limbs around them.

“Yes,” Jane says with a smile in her voice. Max closes her eyes again, sinking into the embraces she had worried she would never have again.

“Are you still mad?” Will says in a small voice, shifting a bit beside Max and gripping the back of her sweater.

“Turns out I was mad about the wrong thing, so this doesn't seem like as big of a deal,” Mike jokes, and the party all laugh. “I'm sorry I was an asshole, I guess I was still embarrassed from yesterday and I thought you guys all knew Jane didn't like me and let me act like an idiot anyway. I know you wouldn't do that. I was never mad about anybody being... gay, or anything.”

“It's okay,” Will says softly, and his hand relaxes on Max's back.

“So the two girls in the party are dating, that's a rip-off,” Dustin says, and the party laughs again. “This all happened yesterday? How did we miss that much?”

“It was after school,” Max mumbles into Lucas's chest, smiling dizzily at the feeling of talking about this while wrapped so tightly in the arms of her favorite people in the world that she can barely breathe. “I was upset about Jacob, and Will came to see me, because he knew what was really wrong and why I couldn't tell anyone.”

She's distracted by Jane tugging her arm with the hand still entwined with hers, and she turns her head towards the other girl, keeping her face pressed against Lucas's chest. “You were upset?” Jane says softly, beautiful eyes wide with concern.

Max smiles, indulgently basking in Jane's endless starlight eyes just because she's allowed to now, even with the press of their friends's bodies around them. The impossible feeling makes her shift closer to the other girl without thinking, if she'd ever had a single thought in Jane's presence at all, and she vaguely hears Will take up telling their story behind her as she rubs Jane's knuckles soothingly. “I'm okay,” she whispers. “I mean, I'm more than okay now, but I just felt guilty yesterday, even though I know I don't need to now.”

“Guilty?” Jane says with a frown so adorable Max can't help but grin foolishly, dreamy gaze dropping from Jane's eyes to her down-turned lips and parting her own at the sudden memory of them.

“Also he was a dick to her,” Lucas stage-whispers, and Max jumps, falling back into her body as if from a dream and blushing to the tips of her toes.

Lucas snickers and takes his arm away from the boys to trap Max in a headlock when she tries to duck away, but Jane is scowling now. “Jacob?” she says, dark eyes narrowing ominously, and Max stumbles a bit in Lucas's grip as she loses her footing dizzily at the sight.

“Yeah, you should use your powers on him,” Dustin says enthusiastically from behind Lucas as the group hug breaks and they all stumble backwards a few steps.

“No she shouldn't,” Lucas frowns, dropping his arm to trap Max to his side as she squirms fruitlessly. “She can't risk exposure, remember?”

“She doesn't need to blow him up or anything,” Dustin says, waving his hand at Lucas impatiently. “Can you blow people up?” he adds to Jane curiously.

Jane shrugs, considering. “I can blow up things around people.”

“That is so cool,” Dustin says with awe in his voice. “What else can you do? Have you tested the extent of your powers?”

“Dustin, she can't use her powers at school,” Lucas says irritably. “Stop treating her like a dog with cool tricks, we need to keep her safe.”

Max feels affection for her best friend flow through her so warm she can't imagine being frozen with terror only a few minutes ago, and the thought reminds her of something which makes her heart squeeze painfully in her chest. “Hey,” she says softly, tugging on the hem of Lucas's sweater, and he turns away from Dustin to look down at her immediately. “You know this is why I – What happened with us, right?”

Lucas's eyebrows pinch in confusion. “What is?”

“This,” Max says, and swallows. “Me being – like this. I couldn't tell you before, and I'm sorry I hurt you... Back then.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” he says softly, eyes searching hers.

“Because -” Suddenly overwhelmed, she looks away from his face, playing with the material over his stomach and wishing like a coward that Jane could say the hard part for her again. “Because I thought... I didn't think I could tell you, or anyone. I thought there was something wrong with me. I didn't know good people like Jane, and Will, felt this way. It was dumb.”

“That is dumb,” Lucas says seriously, and Max rolls her eyes even as she smiles gratefully. “Seriously, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, but I needed time, I guess.” Max leans her head against his shoulder, watching her hand fiddle with Lucas's sweater. “You're really not weirded out by all this?”

She feels Lucas shrug against her. “I never really thought about it, I guess. But even if it was a little weird, I care more about you guys than I do about how strange it is, so it wouldn't bother me.”

Max smiles, wondering how many impossibly good things she can take in such a short period of time before she implodes like she feels like she's going to. “This is why you're the last person who should have gotten his heart crushed by me,” she says quietly.

Lucas laughs, squeezing her to his side affectionately. “Yeah, I'm no Jake,” he agrees, then pauses when she looks down at their feet and doesn't answer. “Max?” he adds, softer.

“I just -” She shakes her head, frustrated. “Now that you know, that I like girls, I just need you to understand that's why I didn't love you back. The only possible reason. I couldn't.”

“Max,” he says again, and she keeps her head tilted stubbornly downwards when she turns her to face him and grips her elbows. “You haven't been feeling guilty about that this whole time, have you?”

Max blushes, shaking her head so that her hair covers her face, but Lucas curls his fingers under her chin to tilt her face towards his, eyes soft when they meet hers. “Hey, look at me,” he says. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

Max tries to back away from his fingers, but he grips her lower jaw gently, staring her down. “You're my best friend, and I hurt you,” she says, and she's horrified to feel her voice break.

“Max, you didn't owe me anything,” Lucas says softly. “You don't owe Jacob anything, or even Jane. You not returning my feelings was reason enough, you don't need to explain yourself. I came out of it okay, even before I knew you were a lesbian. You're my best friend, too.”

Max shakes her head with a watery smile. “You really aren't still mad about it even a little bit?”

“Jesus Christ, Max, no,” Lucas says, rolling his eyes long-sufferingly. “Not everyone holds dark feelings deep inside of them like you apparently do. You got any more bombshell secrets you want to drop on me today?”

Max sniffs, happiness glowing in her belly where her leaden guilt used to sit. “I hate your stupid army utility belt thing, it's a fanny pack trying to be cool.”

Lucas stumbles backwards, clutching his chest with mock horror even as he tries to fight the grin threatening to break over his face. “Okay, all the other stuff I can take, but that just ruined our friendship,” he says.

Max laughs, covering her face with her hands. She feels tears soak her palms as she presses them to her cheeks, and she can't help the sob which bursts from her throat even as her grin stretches across her face so widely it's painful.

“Max?” Jane is at her side at once, concern colouring her soft voice as her fingers tug at Max's wrists. Max dazedly lowers her hands to see the basement lights flickering dangerously around them.

“Holy shit,” Dustin says softly.

“I'm okay,” she says reassuringly, reaching up to cup Jane's delicate cheek, and the lights stop flashing immediately. “Happy tears.” She leans her forehead against Jane's and closes her eyes, another sob escaping her smiling mouth as she shudders with she sheer amount she's feeling.

“Don't fuck with Jane's girlfriend, apparently,” Dustin says, and the boys laugh as Max rubs their noses together dazedly.

“Happy?” Jane whispers, leaning her face into the hand on her cheek and rubbing circles over the wrist still trapped by her fingers in a way which is probably supposed to be soothing but only sends bolts of lightening across Max's skin.

“Yeah,” Max says, wonder in her voice as she takes a moment to truly think about the question. “So happy.” And she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof this was supposed to actually have their whole Halloween date in it, can you imagine??? So long... This is a very emotional couple of days for Max and friends, four chapters over two days ashljsnsnk;sgl Complete utter disgustingly-sweet fluff coming up next!!! I'm still nervous about this chapter so I'm going to go read the incoherent screams from the last one again y'all rock my world you don't even know


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three apologies:  
> 1) I'm sorry this took so long, I was really sick last week and couldn't write. Hopefully the sheer length of this one makes up for it, this is getting ridiculous  
> 2) I know literally nothing about Dungeons and Dragons; most of what I knew about it before I started writing this was from watching the show, and I've never played it or seen anyone play it in real life. I did an insane amount of research for this chapter, like I've researched projects for school less than this, but if it's inaccurate I really hope it doesn't take you out of the story!!! I tried, focus on the gay  
> 3) I am working on requests!!! I swear to god!!! I'm not ignoring them, I'm so excited to get them!!! I'm just The Worst (tm)

Amidst all of the emotional revelations of the night, of course Dustin is the one to tackle the most important problem.

“Where's your costume?” he asks Jane, confused eyes roving over her usual leather jacket and jeans before rising disapprovingly to her face.

Jane frowns at him adorably, still stroking Max's wrists so distractingly the shorter girl's clouded mind doesn't wrap around what he's asking until his accusatory eyes slide to hers. "You didn't tell your girlfriend to bring a costume?" he says, crossing his arms over her chest like he can't believe what he's hearing.

"I -" Max glances at Jane, her scattered thoughts not helped by the half-smile on the other girl's face as she wonders if she'll ever get used to hearing the word   _girlfriend_. "It's been a busy couple of days," she says lamely.

Jane smiles at her, but Dustin scoffs from beside them. “Well, she can't come to the party without a costume,” he says, waving his hands emphatically in her peripheral vision as she ignores him in favor of Jane's captivating eyes.

She's shaken out of her daze when those same eyes widen, worry clouding the endless galaxy inside of them. “I can't?” she says uncertainly, thumbs pausing on Max's skin as she turns to face the other girl with furrowed brows.

“What? No, that's not what he meant,” Max says immediately, stepping closer to Jane with a reassuring smile. Jane's face relaxes, but her eyes are still wide with her unspoken question as she slides her hands down Max's wrists to weave their fingers together, and it's more her gravitational pull than actual thought which draws Max's next words out of her mouth. “Costume or not, you're our mage, you have to come.”

“You still have old costumes and clothes down here somewhere, don't you, Mike?” Lucas says, sounding far away as Max burns up in Jane's answering shy smile. “A mage costume shouldn't be hard to make.”

“Yeah, Mom still has those old trunks somewhere,” Mike says thoughtfully. “Nancy's room might have something we can turn into robes, too. I think she left some old clothes here.”

“Yeah, she probably has that old elf costume she wore for us around here somewhere,” Dustin says, apparently over his indignity at Max as he whirls around to survey the room.

“She was, like, ten when she wore that, it wouldn't fit Jane,” Mike points out, disappearing from view into the broom closet next to the stairs. “And she's not an elf, just because it was a D&D costume doesn't mean it would work for anything, Jesus.”

“She never said she wasn't an elf, she hasn't made a character sheet,” Max says, playing with Jane's fingers absently as she glances around the room to look for a place to start searching. “Major oversight on her DM's part, to be honest.”

“You don't get an opinion on character design continuity, Ms. Blue Hair,” Mike calls irritably from the closet, and the party laughs.

“There it is,” Dustin mutters to her as he passes them on his way to search the opposite side of the room, and Max bumps his fist with a grin.

“I can make a portrait of her character with blue hair for the history book, so that it comes from somewhere,” Will offers, elbow-deep in an old suitcase Lucas had dragged from beneath the couch. “The legends passed down by word of mouth changed so much that by the time it was recorded she was so much larger than life that she had blue hair.”

“Larger than life, now that I like,” Max says, leading Jane away from their friends towards an old pile of boxes in the corner of the room. She knows the night is supposed to be about the party, and she's grateful that they are so amicably fixing the oversight she'd made while thoroughly distracted by Jane's galaxies, but her heart is pounding so loudly against her ribcage that she can feel the echo throughout her whole body and she can't seem to concentrate on anything except getting Jane to herself for even just a moment. “Mike's mom keeps literally everything from their childhood, hopefully we can find you the least dusty costume possible,” she adds quietly, sinking to her knees in front of the boxes without withdrawing the fingers still entangled with Jane's.

“Is your costume from Dungeons and Dragons too?” Jane asks softly, lowering herself to the floor without question as she looks at the old boxes with interest. She slips her fingers away to cautiously peel the flaps back on the top box and sneezes violently as soon as she peeks inside, and Max's stupid heart lunges towards her hopelessly from inside her chest.

“Yeah, we always do group costumes,” Max smiles, reaching into the box to dig through the old clothes inside, mostly to keep herself from reaching for Jane again. “We all dress up as a character from the same thing, something we like. It's dorky, but kind of fun. This is our last year to do it all together, and we wanted to do the best one yet, something really representing the party, so we figured what better way than to  _be_  the party? Which works out well, since we can just throw a cape on you and you're part of the group costume when usually we have to buy official merch to be authentic, the guys get really intense about it.”

Jane smiles at her, glancing over out of the corner of her eye, and her backside abruptly drops to the floor as she loses her balance under the power of her gaze. “What are you?” Jane asks, and a trail of goosebumps erupts over Max's skin beneath her clothes as Jane's curious gaze travels down her body to take in her outfit.

Max clears her throat before she tries to answer. “Oh, we're not in costume yet. We usually bring them to change into here. Uh, my character's a halfling monk, though – she's really fast and curious and an expert in unarmed hand-to-hand combat.”

Eyes alight with interest, Jane turns towards Max, the box of dusty clothes abandoned beside them. “What is halfling monk?”

“It's a race and class,” Max explains, dizzily reaching out to weave their fingers together again, because if they're going to give up the pretense of searching they might as well go all the way. “Halfling is a race, like we were saying earlier about your character being an elf. Or not being an elf, according to Mike, I guess.”

Jane tilts her head, brown eyes so warm Max finds she's sweating with the heat of them as they flit over her blushing face. “Do elves and halflings like each other?” Jane says softly, running her thumb over Max's knuckles.

“Yeah,” Max says, and swallows hard when Jane's thumb sweeps over the back of her hand. “Halflings get along particularly well with elves, actually.”

She barely knows what she's saying, but Jane's lips quirk up into her little half-smile, so she opens her mouth to say something, anything else about the game to keep that intoxicating smile on her when Lucas calls out, “Hey, this will work, try – where did they go?”

Jane glances away and stands, unabashed even as she keeps their fingers entangled. “Here.”

Max lets herself scowl for the long moment Jane isn't looking at her, calling her best friend names she only half-means in her clouded head before standing much more reluctantly than the other girl. She follows Jane's lead towards their friends, trying to rearrange her expression from whatever she's currently wearing when she catches sight of Will grinning up at her from his spot on the floor next to Lucas. “Here, try this on,” Lucas is saying, holding out a blue, velvety cloak to Jane with an easy grin. “It's big enough that it'll cover you, so you won't have to change your normal clothes if you don't want to.”

Jane smiles at him softly and slips her hand away from Max to take the cloak. The abandoned hand feels strangely colder than the rest of her body, but she shoves it into her jeans pocket and lets herself bask in Jane's small, pleased smile as the punk girl slides the long cloak over her shoulders. Her little front teeth dig into her bottom lip as she fiddles with the decorative silver clasp, and Max doesn't notice that her whole world has narrowed down to the small patch of chapped skin until the boys shout in celebration and she starts in surprise when blue velvet swishes in her peripheral vision.

“You look great,” Will says kindly, smiling up at her. “It looks like it's yours.”

“Long,” Jane says, looking curiously down at the toes of her converse barely peeking out from the hem of the cloak.

“Yeah, cloaks are kind of impractical for certain trivial things, like walking,” Max says, and her heart pounds so loudly when Jane turns to smile at her that she barely hears the boys laugh around them. “Looks badass, though.” She steps closer to Jane and tugs at the edges of the material over Jane's chest, winking when the other girl meets her gaze. “Very magical. I'd believe you have superpowers.”

Jane grins at her, cheeks glowing slightly beneath her makeup as her eyes dart over Max's face. Max is dangerously close to giving into the _thing_ in her guts again when Dustin shouts from across the room and she has to focus all of her energy into not jumping guiltily. “No true mage outfit is complete without a staff,” he says excitedly, brandishing a long, black, plastic stick topped with a complex twist as he hurries towards them. “Here, Lady Jane the Powerful.” He hands her the staff with great ceremony.

Jane takes the staff uncertainly, glancing at Max with wide eyes. Max can't help her affectionate smile even as she rolls her eyes at Dustin dramatically. “Magic-wielders use it to direct their magic, I guess. Like a lightening rod. You point it at stuff you want to zap.”

“Zap?” Jane says curiously, examining the staff in her hands with interest.

“You don't _zap_  things,” Mike says, rolling his eyes long-sufferingly as he walks towards Jane and lifts the staff from her grip. “It's an item that enhances the power and effectiveness of your spells. You focus the power of nature and the gods through the staff, so it enhances your stats -”

Max yanks the staff out of his hands and jabs it forward like a sword, lunging one foot in front of the other and waggling her eyebrows at Jane. “Point and zap,” she says.

Jane's eyes dance with amusement as the boys laugh around them. Even Mike's groan is broken with the hint of a laugh as he punches her shoulder lightly, but Max only has eyes for Jane, her grin too wide and foolish as the punk girl lifts one hand to hide her snicker. Helpless under that tractor-beam gaze, she steps closer to Jane and holds out the staff, and then almost drops it when a familiar arm is slung around her shoulders.

“We can teach Jane how to play D&D  _properly_  later,” Lucas says, giving her a pointed look even as he grins widely. “There's a reason why you're not a DM, MadMax.”

“Yeah, because I'm not a gigantic nerd,” Max says, tilting her head back onto his shoulder to roll her eyes at him.

“Says the girl about to dress up as a halfling and go to an arcade for Halloween,” he points out, and their inevitable tickle battle is interrupted by Dustin swatting Lucas upside the head.

“Has everyone forgotten what we're doing here in the first place?” the curly-haired boy demands, waving his hands at the group incredulously as they all turn to look at him. “Candy and video games, hello?”

“Yeah, we should get changed,” Mike says, and Max only allows herself one last pinch to Lucas's side before slipping away from his arm towards Jane. “We're already later than I was expecting. Meet back here in ten?”

Jane smiles at her as she takes the staff, and Max tries to find the Herculean strength to back away instead of weaving their fingers together over the plastic. “Ten minutes?” Jane says softly.

“Yeah, not even. We're just putting our costumes on. You can hang out here, the guys are going upstairs but they'll come back down when they're done.” She's not sure why she's explaining so much, but Jane's tractor-beam eyes are pulling inane words out of her mouth again and she knows somewhere in her clouded brain that once she's done talking she'll have to leave Jane, so she lets whatever scrambled thoughts she has tumble from her lips. “And then Halloween will actually start, this isn't really the fun part.”

“It's fun,” Jane says softly, and leans in to kiss her.

It's barely a brush against her mouth, but Max's mind clouds over dangerously in the short moment their lips touch. She keeps her eyes closed when Jane pulls back, whole body still while the world spins dizzily around her. “Well, that part's fun,” she mumbles, only realizing she's said it out loud when Jane snickers softly so closely she can feel the puff of breath against her cheek.

“Yes,” Jane whispers, and kisses her again.

Max barely has time to lean into the kiss before Jane pulls back, one hand rising to cradle Max's cheek as the other girl tries to chase her lips thoughtlessly. “Max,” Jane sighs, and Max turns her face to press the kiss she'd tried to give to Jane's addictive lips to her palm instead. “Ten minutes,” Jane says breathlessly.

“Mmm? Oh.” Max blushes, ducking her head to let her long hair hide her burning face, but Jane brushes the hand still cupping her face over her cheek gently, pulling the heavy tresses back, and Max chances a glance at her and finds her smiling. Despite her embarrassment, and the dangerous heat still threatening to burn any thought besides kissing Jane from her mind, she can't help but smile back. “Yeah. I'll go... Do that.” She steps backwards reluctantly, resisting the urge to cover her face with her hands when she stumbles on her shaky legs.

Jane doesn't drop her hand until Max is out of arm's reach. “Okay,” she says softly.

“Okay.” Max turns away from her, flying hair obscuring her vision as she hurries towards the bathroom before her hormones defeat her humiliation and she turns back towards Jane like she still desperately wants to.

She changes in record time, trying not to look at her full-body blush in the mirror between outfits, but she can still here the boys's loud voices through the door before she's done. Her eyes immediately find Jane when she steps back into the living room, the punk girl peering down with interest at a binder open across Will's lap.

“Hey, there's our badass monk,” Lucas calls, grinning at her from the gaming table. He raises his arm and mimes shooting her with his wrist rocket, and Max pauses her steps to make sure he sees her eyeroll as she passes him.

“Badass zoomer monk,” she corrects, tugging at the army-green bandana tied around his forehead. “What did I tell you about that stupid utility belt?”

“That it's awesome and the ladies love it?” Lucas smirks, posing proudly with one foot up on a chair as she pads around the table. She darts back to snap the elastic on his wrist rocket, and then ducks away before he can catch her. “Hey!”

“Not exactly a zoomer if you're the last one ready,” Mike grins from the other side of the table, sliding his plastic sword into the holster at his hip as he watches her pass.

“Relax, Wheeler, you're not going to turn into a pumpkin if we're a few minutes late,” Max says, and jumps onto the couch next to Jane so hard both she and Will bounce a bit on the cushions. “What are you guys looking at?” she asks, using the excuse to lean so close to Jane she can smell her flowery soap and that intoxicating earthy scent she can never quite get her fill of.

“Will's showing me your old stories,” Jane says quietly, trailing her finger over the page closest to her with wonder.

“Mike has some of my old drawings I brought for campaigns in middle school,” Will explains when Max looks up at him in confusion. “My mom tried to keep all of my art, but I basically illustrated all of our games so I think she ran out of room. I forgot I started keeping these here, I think this was even before your time.”

“Are you shooting cabbages?” Max asks, tapping her finger against the balls of green flying through the air in the illustration Jane is looking at.

Will laughs. “I remember that one. I ran out of red crayon, but I didn't want to stop drawing.”

“These are good,” Jane says, leaning over to turn the page across Will's lap with wide eyes.

“His new ones are even better,” Max says, and smiles when Will's ears turns pink. “Wait until you see how much he's improved in a few short years, it'll blow your mind.”

“Max,” Will mumbles, looking down at the binder with his head bowed. Max reaches over Jane to muss his hair, and he bats her away with a grin.

“There's more?” Jane says, finally looking up at Max for the first time since she'd walked out of the bathroom. Her doe eyes stop on the top of her head, and Max suddenly regrets her insistence on wearing a warm costume as all the light and heat of Jane's constellations slowly travels over her body to take in her outfit.

Although she has never been as detail-oriented about getting her costume canonically exact as the boys were, Max enjoyed designing her characters more than any other part of Dungeons and Dragons, and had put more effort into recreating the character she had imagined than she would ever admit to her friends. Her long hair is tied in a tight ponytail on the top of her head, thick waves tumbling down the back of her suddenly-sweaty neck like a waterfall. The silky, long-sleeved red robe wrapped tightly around her figure was cut up the seams to the top of her hips, which allow a peek of her tight black aerobic leggings before the robe stops at her knees. She'd wrapped athletic tape around her feet and ankles, as her character was an expert martial artist, and although it's barely peeking out of her knee-high leather boots she's suddenly paranoid that Jane is secretly a karate expert and can see how clumsy her wrapping is.

But Jane only tilts her head, eyes bright with interest as she follows the lines of Max's body down to her toes and then looks back up into her eyes so suddenly Max jumps. “Monk?” she says quietly, the neckline of her cloak drooping down one shoulder as she leans in to Max just slightly.

Max swallows, wishing her hair was loose so that she could hide her blushing cheeks. “Um. Yeah, D&D-type monk. Supposed to be, anyway.”

“It would be with a wig,” Mike complains, and her annoyance distracts her from the unnamed tension in her belly enough to let her whip her head around in time to see Dustin smack his shoulder irritably.

“Enough with the wig, it's her character,” Dustin says, raising his eyebrows when Mike frowns at him and rubs his shoulder. “Can we go already, we're missing prime candy-eating time!”

The boys bicker amongst themselves as they slowly start to head towards the door, but Jane catches her wrist and tugs. She turns back, backside half-risen off the cushion, and Jane cups her cheek and kisses her much harder than she had a few minutes ago.

Max sinks back onto the couch shakily, their friends's voices and the Wheeler's basement and every thought in her head fading away as soon as Jane's lips touch hers. She grips the edges of Jane's cape and pulls her closer, lost to everything except the feeling of her lips, and she keeps her eyes closed when Jane draws back, exhaling shakily as she grips the velvety material on reflex to keep her close.

"Beautiful," Jane whispers so close she can feel the words exhaled against her lips, and Max pulls the other girl against her again with a wordless groan.

"Hey zoomer, we - Oh." Max opens her eyes reluctantly at the thundering footsteps on the basement stairs, but the blush spreading over her prickling skin is more from Jane's starlit eyes gazing back into her than embarrassment at their friends's sniggering behind them. "I take it back, the two girls in the party dating each other is way better," Dustin says, and Max's ponytail almost swings back to hit her blushing face as she whips around to glare at him.

"What did I tell you about being creeps?" she snaps, her glowering probably losing most of its power between her furious blush and her whole body softening when Jane weaves their fingers together.

"Well, sorry for the inconvenience, but we did have this minor problem of getting to a party we've been planning to go to for a whole year," Lucas says with a grin, and she knows her scowl is ineffective when he only raises his eyebrows when she points her glare at him.

"We were wondering how we were all going to get to the arcade, since your car isn't built for that many people," Will says. Although his voice is apologetic he still has the grin he's been wearing all day spread across his face as he peeks down at them from the stairwell.

"Jane can sit on Max's lap," Dustin offers.

"Or I could drive her and you losers can walk," Max snaps, but the effect is softened again when Jane snickers along with the boys and Max's whole body melts at the sound. 

She turns to flash Jane a grin as she stands, pulling the hand entwined with hers gently to lead her to her feet, and Jane's answering smile is so dazzling she sways a bit as she turns towards the stairwell, disoriented. “We'll all fit. It's a short drive, it's not like we're riding on dangerous highways or anything.”

“So, what, are we all hanging off the roof the whole way there?” Lucas says, throwing her a frown over his shoulder as he leads his way up the stairs.

"No, just you,” Max shoots back, only reluctantly letting go of Jane's hand to pull her coat over her arm. He scoops her up as soon as she walks out the door, spinning her around so quickly she can't orient herself enough to figure out where to tickle him. “Lucas, you wastoid, put me down!”

“Make me,” he grins, wrapping his arm around her head to trap her face in his armpit as they wrestle. “Where are your lightening-fast kickass monk moves now?”

Max shoves her ice-cold hands up the back of his shirt and he yells, flinching away from her instinctively. She darts away, wiggling her fingers at him as he readjusts his shirt and scowls. “Right here, dickhole,” she says, grinning.

Jane snickers, lifting her fist to hide her grin as she slows her steps to let Max catch up, but Dustin rolls his eyes long-sufferingly. “Don't encourage them,” he says to Jane, and Max takes a moment to caress her back when she reaches around the other girl to punch his shoulder. “We still don't know your plan of transportation, oh brilliant zoomer.”

“You're looking at it,” Max says, and opens the back door with raised eyebrows. “Get in. Not you, you're up front with me,” she adds to Jane, who had been gamely gathering her cloak around herself to slide into the car.

“She's literally the smallest out of all of us, the biggest person should be in the front seat,” Mike says, furrowing his eyebrows at Max as Dustin swings his bag of holding into his arms and crawls into the backseat with a smirk.

Max rolls her eyes, but before she can open her mouth to retort Will slips between them and tugs on Mike's cape imploringly. “It's just for a few minutes, and we're already late,” he says, big eyes holding Mike's as he ducks into the car doorway.

Mike huffs, but he rolls his eyes and hunches over to crawl in after Will. Max raises her eyebrows, muttering, “That's what I just said, but okay,” to Lucas as he slides past her into the car, but Jane snickers behind her and she turns to see the other girl watching their friends with warm, amused brown eyes as they shove each other and argue in the backseat, and she feels the street shift beneath her even though she's not moving as her mind thinks, unbidden,  _girlfriend_.

Jane catches her staring and flashes her a  _can-you-believe-them_  look, as if Max was even aware that the boys still existed when she was so close, and lowers herself into the passenger seat. Max shuts her door and winks down at her through the window before jogging around the front of the car, glad of the burst of exercise as her limbs shake with sudden nervous energy. She swings herself into the front seat and grins into the rear-view mirror at the glares reflected back at her. “Come on, act like you like each other,” she teases, and waggles her eyebrows as she reaches down to shove the key into the ignition.

Jane perks up as soon as the stereo blares to life, blasting one of the songs from her mixtape. She turns to Max, eyes sparkling so distractingly Max is suddenly, dizzily worried about driving safety for a different reason than not having enough seatbelts in her car. Thos captivating eyes glance away when the boys lean forward as one, talking over each other as they compete for Jane's attention to explain their costumes, but Max still has to take a deep breath before she pushes the car into drive and eases out onto the street. Warm fingers slide through hers as soon as she takes her hand off the gear shift, and her heart accelerates along with the vibrating engine beneath them as she drives.

The parking lot is almost full when they finally pull up in front of the arcade. Teenagers spill out the glass doors and onto the concrete steps, laughing and hitting each other with props from their costumes or exchanging candies from tote bags or pillowcases. The party piles out of the car, the boys with much more dramatic effect than Max believes is necessary, and Max allows herself one last longing look at Jane glowing in the setting sun before she steps away and shoves her hands into her coat pockets. Dustin drops her skateboard at her feet with a great clatter, tilting his head with a significant look when she glances up in surprise, and she steps onto it immediately, feeling as placated as she can be without Jane's hand in hers as she sails ahead of her friends towards the arcade.

The arcade is packed, teeming mobs of kids crowded around beeping game machines or swarming the snack counter. The song 'The Monster Mash' plays above the chaos, undoubtedly not for the first or last time of the night, as Max opens the door for Jane and then is forced to hold it for each of her friends as they stroll through leisurely and thank her for her chivalry in mock-grateful voices.

Mike and Dustin flank Jane before Max can catch up to her. "It's a special event the arcade puts on every year for Halloween," Mike is explaining as Jane tilts her head back to take in the room around her, eyes wide. "They stay open until midnight and put on gaming competitions and costume parades and stuff. All the games have candy in bowls next to them, and you're supposed to go from one to the next like you're trick-or-treating. The tickets you win are worth twice as much at the prize counter, too. It's a way more fun alternative to getting wasted once you're too old to trick-or-treat."

"We usually take turns on the games," Dustin says, slinging an arm around Jane's shoulder. "You get the honor of choosing first tonight, where do you want to start?"

Jane looks from the flashing, dinging game of pinball next to them to his smiling face, doe eyes reflecting the multicolored lights around them. "I don't know," she says, and bites her lip.

"The good thing about tonight is that you're supposed to try all the games," Max says, smiling when Jane's eyes dart to hers immediately. Jane smiles back, shoulders visibly relaxing as she takes Max in, and Max risks stepping towards her and bumping their elbows together, hoping the gesture is innocent enough to distract from the longing undoubtedly written across her face. "So there's no right place to start. Hey, it looks like those guys just lost at Haunted Mansion, why don't you all go claim the machine while I give Kevin our coats?"

"Very fitting place to start tonight," Dustin agrees cheerfully, and Max carries Jane's small, lop-sided smile with her all the way to the counter with their coats.

By the time she finds them gathered around the Haunted Mansion machine Mike is halfway through the first level, hunched over the controls with furrowed eyebrows. She's surprised that the boys aren't shouting suggestions and encouragement like they usually do when they watch each other play, but as she squeezes around Lucas's side to look at the screen she sees Jane leaning into him, following the rapid movements of his avatar with wide eyes as he narrates what he's doing in the game. She looks like she's concentrating so seriously, like she's trying to memorize his sequence of moves exactly, and Max gets so lost watching her that she doesn't realize she hasn't been paying attention to Mike's game at all until the game buzzes loudly and the boys all groan.

"I still have two more lives," Mike says, smiling down at Jane in the way which would have made Max's stomach clench painfully just yesterday. "Want to try?"

Jane shakes her head, smiling at Dustin as he steps up to the game immediately. The boys can't resist cheering and talking over the game this time, crowding around Dustin so tightly that Max gets trapped between Lucas and the machine, but Jane still doesn't want to try the game for their last life. Max gently pushes Will to the front of the group to play and leans against the side of the machine near the other girl, basking in the burn of her countless suns as she watches her watch the game with interest, and she only comes back to herself when the boys jostle her in celebration of Will's high score.

Jane doesn't want to try the next game either, though, and concern begins to creep through the blanketing warmth of Jane's presence. Max waits until their friends are distracted by Lucas choosing his avatar before pulling Jane to the side by her cape, searching her endless dark eyes. "Hey, you having fun?" she says.

"Yes," Jane says softly, barely audible over the dinging and buzzing of the machines around them even though she's so close Max can feel her body heat against her own burning skin. She smiles at Max, eyes soft as they rove over her blushing face like she's drinking her in, and Max swallows as her thoughts blur for a dangerous second. "It's loud."

"Yeah, it's not usually so crazy in here." Max glances around quickly, looking for a game in a quieter area, but packs of teenagers seem to fill every space between the flashing machines. "You want to go?"

"No," Jane says, shaking her head even as she draws her cape around her body. "It's not bad. Just a lot. I've never been in an arcade before."

"Yeah, like Mike was saying, this is pretty much all to do here besides drink on Halloween so it gets pretty crazy." Her eyes land on an open doorway on the back wall, and an idea forms in her mind. "Hey, I promised you a skateboarding lesson, didn't I?" She grins, and Jane's answering smile makes her glance down at the skateboard balanced against her leg it's so blindingly bright. "Follow me." She wraps her hand around Jane's wrist and pulls her into the crowd, knocking Will's shoulder with her own and nodding towards the bathrooms when he looks at her in confusion, and leads the way through the crowd towards the back wall.

She glances around the hallway as soon as they walk through the back door, heart picking up speed when she finds it empty. Her tight grip on Jane's wrist loosens and she trails her fingers over the other girl's hand, weaving their fingers together when they meet. "Nobody ever comes back here, I'm pretty sure nobody but the regulars like us even know they have bathrooms," she says, leading Jane further down the dimly-lit hallway away from the noise of the party. "We should be good."

"Good," Jane echoes softly, sweeping her thumb over Max's knuckles as she trails after her.

Max throws her skateboard down onto the uneven floor, stopping it with one foot before it rolls away. She can hear the echoing music and laughter from the arcade echoing down the hallway, and she's suddenly very aware that they are completely alone. Her stomach swoops like she's just kicked off on her skateboard, and the feeling reminds her of why they are alone in the first place and she blushes and steps onto the skateboard hastily. Her hand slips away from Jane's as she sails forward, and she tries to wipe the sweaty palm on her robe without making it obvious to the other girl, although Jane had undoubtedly felt how slick her hand was in her own. "So you got the basics down last time," she says, feeling Jane's tractor-beam eyes on her as she twists her hips to turn the board and avoids her gaze. "We can start there again to warm up, but you learn really fast, we can start on some fun stuff if you want."

"I used my powers last time," Jane says softly.

"I - What?" Max looks up without thinking, meeting her disorienting brown eyes. Her mind clouds over immediately, and she dizzily wonders if it is Jane's tractor-beam gaze pulling her skateboard steadily forward instead of her own power.

"When you showed me last time," Jane says, holding Max's dazed eyes with clouded eyes of her own, "I almost fell off and I used my powers to steady the board."

"Really?" Max says. Her board drifts by the taller girl, and she shifts her weight without thinking to face her. "Why?"

Jane shrugs, making a face as she finally glances away from Max, although the other girl can't seem to look anywhere else. "I don't know. I was embarrassed. You're so good at it."

"Yeah, because I've been doing it for, like, eight years," Max laughs. Her heart throws itself towards Jane so desperately it almost knocks her off-balance, and she swivels her hips to work off some of the nervous energy suddenly humming through her body. "If you saw me when I first started you'd be a lot less impressed. Skateboarding, video games, all this new stuff, you don't have to be good at it on your first try. I'm just happy you're here trying it at all."

Her brain only catches up with her mouth when Jane doesn't answer right away, and even her skateboard can't save her as she loses her footing and the wheels wobble dangerously. Wishing feverishly that her hair was loose so that she could hide her face, she leans forward to turn the trajectory of the board and avoids Jane's steady gaze, feeling it burn into her already-overheated skin as she sails past. "Max," Jane says softly.

"We all are," Max tacks on hastily, still avoiding her gaze. Somehow Jane knowing about her feelings makes her moment of vulnerability more embarrassing, not less, and her clouded mind searches desperately for something to distract from her words. "Hey, you should see Dustin skateboard, I've taught him about a thousand times but he still can't stay on for more than a few seconds to save his life."

"Max," Jane says again.

"It's cool that you can use your powers on the board, actually," she rambles, swiveling the board without looking at where she's going and weaving down the hallway with her eyes on her boots. "Maybe you could make it look like I'm doing something awesome enough to get me on television so that I don't have to finish the year -"

Jane clutches the belt tied around her waist as she drifts by, and her stream of meaningless words stops as abruptly as her skateboard. "Max," Jane says seriously, and then she kisses her.

Max's eyes drift closed. She leans in without a thought, falling back into their rhythm as if they'd never stopped kissing a few hours ago, and Jane sighs against her lips. All of her embarrassment and awkwardness and uncertainty is burned out of her by Jane's blinding suns, so close she can see and feel nothing else around her, and her chest aches with how full it is. She lets out a needy moan and tries to step into Jane's body, and she stumbles, blind and disoriented, when the skateboard rolls beneath her eager feet. Jane tries to draw back, steadying her with warm hands on either side of her waist, but Max kicks the skateboard out of the way impatiently and cups her cheeks to pull her back, pressing their lips together fiercely. Jane stumbles into her and sighs against her lips, and Max shuffles backwards, keeping Jane pressed as close to her as possible as she slides their lips together over and over again. Her back hits the wall and she bounces forward into Jane a bit, shaky and breathless as she refuses to break their kiss, and Jane slides her tongue over her bruised bottom lip and pins her against the surface with the weight of her body, returning her gesture with equal enthusiasm. She can feel the lines of Jane's body pressing against hers, strong and intoxicatingly warm even though her layers, and she can't help but wrap her arms around Jane's neck and arch up into her when the taller girl teases her tongue with her own.

Abruptly Jane pulls away, cape billowing around her gracefully as she dances out of Max's greedy hands, and Max barely has a moment to make a strangled noise of protest before she sees why. A boy, barely old enough to be finished with trick-or-treating, rounds the corner, munching loudly on a fun-sized chocolate bar. He eyes them warily as he passes, taking in their flushed faces and shallow breaths, but Jane reaches her foot out to roll the skateboard behind her cloak with wide eyes and a look of understanding blooms on his face. He smirks at them, drawing his fingers across his mouth as if pulling a zipper, and disappears into the boy's bathroom.

As soon as the door swings shut Max reaches out and pulls Jane back to her by the edges of her cloak, kissing her greedily. Jane grins against her eager lips and returns the kiss, lining up their bodies as she presses Max against the wall with one forearm balanced beside her head, but even Max hears the commotion through the heavy fog in her brain this time when a group of teenage boys rounds the corner shouting loudly about high scores. Jane steps back and falls heavily against the wall beside her, face flushed as she sucks her own lower lip into her mouth and ducks her head, and Max's whole world narrows down to this vision in front of her until her skateboard collides with her ankle painfully and she jumps.

"If you're having trouble with the skateboard, ladies, I got something for you to ride," one of them calls, and they all laugh and high-five obnoxiously.

Before Max can find the breath to retort the one who had spoken jerks backwards, falling spectacularly as if thrown by some invisible force. Max can't help but laugh as his limbs flail as he falls to the ground, glancing at Jane out of the corner of her eye to see the other girl glaring down her nose at the boys, eyes dark with power and fury even as her cheeks still glow pink beneath her make-up. Mostly to stop herself from throwing herself at Jane again, her mind fuzzing dangerously at the look on her girlfriend's face, Max turns back to the boys helping their friends off the floor and calls, "If you have that much trouble walking I don't think you're up to riding anything, assholes," and pushes off the wall with a hand on Jane's bicep over her cloak, returning the boys's one-fingered salute with her own as she leads the way back towards the arcade. She hopes her steps don't look as shaky as they feel, but as Jane tilts her head to meet her eyes and smiles shyly, the power and fury of the cosmos quieting as her gaze meets Max's, she's just grateful she's putting one foot in front of the other.

"Have I mentioned how awesome it is when you do that?" she whispers, using the excuse to lean closer when they step out into the chaos of the arcade.

Jane grins at her, starlit eyes dancing with mischief. "No," she whispers back.

Max laughs, eyes falling to Jane's lips before she catches herself. "No? Well, it's awesome," she says with a wink, using the excuse to wrap an arm around Jane's back for too-brief a moment when a boy almost steps backwards into her. Jane doesn't back up when she reluctantly slides her arm away, cloak bunching up against Max's shoulder as their arms brush against each other, and Max wonders dizzily if her feet are still touching the ground. "Much cooler than skateboarding," she adds, because she's vaguely aware that she's been staring too long but she can't seem to remember how to look away.

Jane grins, and Max glows softly. "No. I still need a real skateboarding lesson. One without powers."

"You're the one who interrupted your own lesson back there," Max teases, reckless under the power of her smile. "You'd think you didn't even have skateboarding in mind when you came back with me."

Jane's bruised lips quirk up into her little half-smile, eyes warm with a different heat than her usual constellations, and Max walks right into Dustin's back hard enough to bowl him over.

"There you are!" he says, fixing Max with an incredulous look as he grabs Jane's wrist and pulls her away. "Quit hogging her, she doesn't even have any candy yet."

"Oh, but -" Max stumbles a bit as Dustin tugs Jane away from her grasp, arm still outstretched even once their curly-haired friend wraps an arm around the other girl's shoulders to steer her towards the machine Will is playing. Lucas snickers, wrapping one hand around her elbow and nudging her chin obnoxiously with the thumb of his other hand.

"Uh, Max, you got a bit of lipstick there," he says quietly.

"What?" Max is still watching Jane smile at their friends, not even pretending to listen. "I don't wear lipstick."

"I know," Lucas smirks.

It takes an embarrassingly long moment for Lucas's words to sink in through the fog in her mind, but when they do her head whips around so quickly she almost gets a face-full of her own ponytail. Lucas laughs so hard he stumbles backwards a few steps, dragging her with him by the hand still on her elbow as she scrubs furiously at her lips with her free hand, and she lets herself fall into his body, burying her flaming face in his chest as they both shake with his laughter. He wraps his arms around her back, and his hands are soothing as they stroke her spine even as he smirks into her hair.

"Lucas, oh my god," Max whispers, and even as her guts twist with humiliation she can't keep the wide, stupid smile off her face. "I like her so much."

"Do you? Because you're being really subtle about it." He laughs and jerks his hips away when she punches him in his side, only tightening his hold on her when she squirms in his embrace.

"Her I like, you I hate," she grumbles, pinching his stomach as it shakes with his laughter.

Lucas grins and snatches up her hands before they can sneak beneath his shirt again, snorting and opening his mouth to retaliate, but before they can descend into another pinching battle the music lowers and Kevin's nasally voice echoes around the arcade, distorted through his microphone. "It's that time again, video game enthusiasts," he says in a monotone. "Our last competition of the night, but certainly not the least. Player versus player for the coveted prize of fifty free tokens and a mystery prize from the top shelf. We have two returning champions this year, both high score-holders on various games in this very arcade, give it up for Dan and Max."

Max rolls her eyes at Lucas as he backs away from her, clapping like a proud father at a little league game while the rest of the boys whoop behind them. She flips him off, which he pauses his mocking applause only briefly to return, and glances over her shoulder as she trots through the crowd towards Kevin, searching for endless brown eyes. This turns out to be a mistake, because when she finds them her stomach jolts with sudden heat, her whole body suddenly aching to be allowed to be dragged back in that tractor-beam gaze she apparently will never get used to no matter how many times it's focused on her, and she has to lean against the machine for a minute when she reaches Dan, a boy in the grade below hers who she knows only from competitions like this one, and flashes him a shaky smile.

"Hey Max," he grins, already posed over the controls. "Cool costume. Lord of the Rings?"

"D&D," she says, and he nods. "How about -"

"Enough trash talk," Kevin says in his monotone voice into the microphone. "Get ready to defend your titles. On your mark, get set, play."

Max rolls her eyes and punches the start button. Her body relaxes, the new, unnamed nervous energy tying her body into knots all day loosening as she falls into the single-minded focus of the game. She races through the levels, voices and pressing bodies around her fading as she settles into the hypnotizing rush of split-second reactions and spectacular saves, and she's so deep in the familiar respite of playing that she takes a few confused moments to come back to herself when the level shuts down abruptly in her victory. She blinks as her friends are suddenly crowded around her, hugging and jostling her as the crowd cheers, and it's only when she sees Dan's contrite smile as he nods to the  _Game Over_  on his screen that she realizes she's won and offers him a friendly grin.

"Congratulations Max," Kevin says flatly. "You've won the prize of fifty tokens tokens and this highly-valuable prize, as well as the title of champion for another year. Better luck next time, Dan." He shoves a plastic bag filled with tokens and a stuffed teddy bear into her hands and clicks the microphone off, turning away from the crowd to head back to the prize counter without another word.

"MadMax wins again!" Lucas shouts, trapping her in a headlock and pulling her into his body. She shoves him away and rolls her eyes, even though she's unable to keep the smile from spreading across her blushing face at her friends's enthusiasm.

"Yeah, don't forget who's the champion of all you nerds," she says, and the boys all laugh and Lucas swats her ponytail. They all turn in a great, chattering mob to herd her back towards the next line of game machines, but Jane catches her eye and she falls back to walk beside the other girl. Jane has a curious expression on her face, bright eyes half-hidden beneath her thick lashes as she watches Max out of the corner of her eye, and Max's heart picks up speed even though their steps slow behind the boys.

"Hey," she murmurs, leaning into Jane as they walk so that the billowing cape hides the space between them from the crowd milling around them. Jane turns her face towards Max's at the sound, and she's so close all lurking inhibitions and common sense evaporate in her suddenly-overheated mind and she holds out her arm without another thought. "This is for you."

Jane looks away from her lips to her hand and those beautiful eyes widen, the punk girl only hesitating for a moment before gently taking the stuffed bear out of Max's hand. "For me?"

"Yeah." Max swallows, the small part of her brain still struggling to work beneath the heady fog positive that whatever look she has on her face is undoing any protection the cape is giving them. "It's got candy in the belly."

"Oh," Jane breathes. Her cheeks flush as she wraps her arms around the bear, and Max can feel the memory of it on her own skin when Jane's teeth dig into her bottom lip. "Thank you."

"Happy Halloween," Max says, and clears her throat.

"Happiest Halloween," Jane says softly, and her eyes when she raises them to meet Max's full on almost make her lose her head completely and kiss her. She bites her own lip instead, watching Jane's teeth dig into her mostly-naked bottom lip with the same hypnotized focus she has losing herself in the video game, and as that little half-smile spreads across Jane's distracting lips she's inclined to agree with her girlfriend.

She doesn't kiss Jane, then, but after spending the remainder of the party walking her through countless games for one run where she fails spectacularly each time, partially because she refuses to let go of the stuffed bear in her arms, she does get to kiss her in all of the ways she'd spent the past few hours imagining in the privacy of her car when they're finally, finally the only two left, and it's hard, in those moments, to feel like she was missing anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I glanced at my inbox and someone said as of last chapter this story is as long as Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, so like. this is going to be as long as ootp I swear to god. Max's useless gayness literally fills a novel, girl needs to smoke some weed. Also I've only been writing this since December 16, get on my level JKR (sorry I may still have a fever)  
> I keep forgetting to dedicate chapters to people, so this chapter is dedicated to @MurtaghArcturus and @MurtaghArcturus's sister, it makes me so happy that new and seasoned fic readers could both enjoy this dumb trash fire of a fic and bond over it, I hope you both enjoy this chapter as much!!!


	17. Chapter 17

Already so full of giddy excitement she can barely sit still enough in the car seat to drive in a straight line, when Max sees the papers clutched in Lucas and Mike's hands as they wait for her on Mike's front lawn she barely has time to throw the parking break down before she's out of the car running towards them.

“College-bound, baby!” Lucas shouts, opening his arms as she streaks across the lawn, and she laughs as she throws herself into his embrace.

“More importantly, sandy beaches and weather you can wear less than seven layers in,” she says, reaching behind her blindly to pull a laughing Mike into their hug. “How many letters did you guys get?”

“Only a few so far,” Mike says, voice muffled by her hair as he tries to wrap his gangly arms around both of them at the same time. “Still waiting on Yale and MIT, but it's cool to hear back from any college, even if only state schools are sending out notifications so far.”

“Oh, what a pity, being stuck with a state school,” Max smirks, turning in Lucas's arms to poke Mike's stomach teasingly, but before he can retaliate Lucas scoops her into his arms and spins her around, squeezing her waist so tightly it knocks the wind out of her.

“Hey, if you go to MIT and I go to Harvard that would be awesome,” Lucas says to Mike over her head as she kicks her feet and yells at him to put her down. “We could get an apartment and have D&D sessions whenever we want. And you would have twice the reason to come visit us,” he adds to Max, finally setting her back on her feet even as he traps her in his arms when she tries to step away. “Instead of making two trips.”

“You think I'm going to come back up north after finally escaping this bullshit frozen wasteland?” Max teases, settling back against his chest and rifling through the papers still clutched in his hand with interest. “You're all going to come visit me, and you're going to actually go outside for once.”

“Hey, that's right, spring break in California,” Lucas says, lifting one fist in front of her face and rocking it back and forth with his thumb and pinkie pointed outwards in his terrible impression of the surfer gesture. “Totally tubular.”

“Never mind, you're uninvited,” Max says, and the boys laugh as Lucas spins her around one more time just to annoy her. “Jesus, Lucas, did you just apply to every college in the country?”

“Not my fault everyone wants me,” he says, smirking at her when she leans back against his shoulder to roll her eyes at him. “I applied to pretty much anywhere with a good law program just in case, but unless Harvard turns me down these are just bragging rights.”

Max laughs, squeezing his forearm before finally stepping away from his embrace. “Well, you two being giant nerds finally paid off. Come on, Dustin's probably having a meltdown waiting to tell us how many acceptance letters he got.”

Dustin wasn't the only one practically bursting at the seams wanting to share his college acceptances with them; Mrs. Henderson is waiting on their front porch with him when Max pulls into his driveway, wrapped haphazardly in a worn bathrobe and cupping his cheeks with tears pouring freely down her own. Both Hendersons raise their hands and shout when Max and the boys tumble out of the car, and Mrs. Henderson hugs each of them several times and sobs about how fast they've all grown up before they manage to ease out of the circle of her arms and pile back into the car to finally head to school.

“Of course this is only the beginning of college acceptances, there should be more coming so I haven't made my final decision before I have all possible options confirmed,” Dustin rambles as the boys pass his pile of acceptance letters around the car. “And a lot of it depends on what scholarships they can offer me, Mom can't exactly put me through a four-year ivy league school when her big splurge of the week is buying Tews wet cat food.”

“Yeah, and then there's grad school to think about,” Lucas says, wrapping an arm around the back of Max's headrest absently as he rifles through the papers on his lap with his free hand. “Undergrad matters, but the guidance counsellor says where you do your grad work is what will make or break your career.”

“Okay, let's just be happy about one thing at a time,” Max says, catching his eye and holding it as she makes a turn on muscle memory alone. The wide grin he'd been wearing when she first saw him that morning was replaced by a small, pinched frown as he drowns in the offers overflowing on his lap, and she knows he's already plotting his move for level five before he's even started playing level one. “We started getting acceptance letters, you guys.  _College_  acceptance letters. We're going to friggin'  _college_.”

The boys laugh, and Dustin whoops from the backseat. Lucas's eyes soften as he grins at her, and she knows he feels better when he reaches up to muss her hair so badly she has a dangerous moment of obscured vision before she blows the strands out of her face with an annoyed huff.

“I wonder where Will got accepted,” Mike says, leaning his forehead against the back of her headrest as he sorts the letters by who they are addressed to.

“Didn't he go for an interview at whatever that fancy arts college is in New York?” Max says, glancing over her shoulder as she pulls into the parking lot. “I don't think it was his first choice, though, Jonathan just really wanted him to move out there.”

“We can ask him,” Lucas says reasonably. “If Mrs. Byers finishes bawling over him long enough for him to even come to school today.”

“Yeah, you all thought my mom was bad,” Dustin says, but Max doesn't join in with her friends's laughter, because the sight her eyes land on as she rolls into a parking spot throws her heart into a frenzied rhythm as uncontrollable as when she'd found the fat envelopes on her kitchen table that morning, and she's out of the car before she can think.

Jane is leaning with her back against the far wall of the school, effortlessly beautiful as she props one foot up against the bricks behind her and exhales a long spool of smoke into the frosted air. She doesn't hear Max call her name the first time, the dull roar of the students milling around the parking lot loud enough to apparently even obscure whatever Jackson Barkley is saying to her from his spot beside her on the wall since she tilts her head towards him politely, but when she finally catches Max's breathless voice over the noises around her she lights up, her foot falling to the pavement as she leans forward to look around hopefully.

“Max,” she says, turning her back on the smoking boy completely as Max finally reaches her, and Max wonders dizzily if the phrase  _beaming smile_  was crafted because of the countless suns behind Jane's expression.

“Hey,” Max grins, trying not to look as out of breath as she feels after her sprint across the parking lot. She can't help but step closer to Jane, even as she fumbles with the letter in her hands to stop herself from reaching for her girlfriend. “Guess wh-”

“What is this, the Make-A-Wish Foundation?” Jackson Barkley says from behind Jane, stepping up behind her with a cigarette hanging between his frowning lips. “Clear off, Mayfield.”

“Make-A-Wish?” Jane says, eyebrows furrowing as she glances between Jackson and Max.

Max rolls her eyes at Jackson. “Eat shit, Barkley.” She grabs Jane's wrists and tugs her around the corner, careful to drop them as soon as her girlfriend finds her footing in front of her. “Look what I got today,” she grins, holding out her acceptance letter eagerly before Jane can ask anything more about Jackson's comment.

Sufficiently distracted, Jane takes the letter from Max and unfolds it curiously. Max can't help a long, dreamy moment of drowning in her eyes, bright and serious as she reads over each word with careful slowness, and she's the one so distracted this time that she jumps when Jane gasps and throws herself at her abruptly.

“California!” Jane smiles into her hair, arms wrapped so tightly around Max's neck she's practically hanging off the shorter girl. “Where you always wanted to go!”

“Yeah,” Max grins, barely knowing what she's saying as she revels in the feeling of Jane's body wrapped around hers. She's vaguely aware that she should probably have pulled away by now, or at least be breathing in Jane's earthy scent and hair gel a bit less obviously, but Jane's excitement is infectious and it's a bit too hard to resist indulging in it being focused on her at least for a moment.

“Hey, Jane, if you're trying to set her on fire your lighter would probably work better,” Lucas teases from behind them, and Max jumps away with a guilty blush before realizing he's referring to Jane's still-lit cigarette and not Max's pathetic reaction to her constellation of suns.

The boys, now including a softly-smiling Will, all laugh, but Jane beams around at them, unperturbed. “Max is going to college in California.”

“Yeah, we know,” Lucas says, eyes warming as he watches Jane hand a still-blushing Max back her letter. “It's pretty awesome.”

“We all got letters today,” Dustin says excitedly, and Jane's eyes widen as she eagerly traps the cigarette between her distracting lips and takes his slightly-crinkled stack from his hands.

“How about you, did you get into every arts school in the country?” Max smiles at Will as Lucas and Mike crowd around Jane, talking over each other about their future plans as she looks between them with shining eyes.

Will ducks his head, smile a bit shy as he shoves his mittened hands into his coat pockets. “Some,” he says modestly, and his smile widens when Max raises her eyebrows. “I applied to some academic colleges, too, but there are some great arts programs there so I don't have to decide yet. Hey, CalArts liked my portfolio, we could be surfing together next year,” he smiles, nudging her arm with his elbow without taking his hand out of his pocket.

“I'm holding you to that statement, you come down south you have to surf with me,” she says, pointing a finger at him with mock-seriousness. He laughs softly, glancing down at his boots, and Max steps forward to wrap him in a hug. “Congratulations, Will. Is that your first choice, CalArts?”

Will slips his hands out of his pockets to hug her back, squeezing her waist gently. “I haven't really decided yet, but I don't think so. Stanford and U Chicago have art scenes that seem more my speed.”

“Way to build me up just to tear me down,” Max teases, and he laughs and gives her one last squeeze before stepping away. “But hey, Mike said this morning he's thinking Stanford, it's not as great as having me but you might have company at least.”

“Yeah, I know,” Will says quietly, and his eyes slide to Mike chatting animatedly at Jane behind them like he can't help it.

Max is all to familiar with what the expression on his face means, and her heart squeezes as the rest of their friends crowd around them. “This definitely calls for a party celebration,” Mike says, throwing his arm around Dustin's shoulder with a wide grin. “Benny's after school?”

“I have basketball practice today,” Lucas says.

“Yeah, and some of us actually have to do homework and keep our grades up if we're going to go to the colleges that just accepted us,” Max says when Mike frowns and opens his mouth to argue with Lucas.

Mike rolls his eyes at her. “Fine. Friday night, my house? You can all stay over for D&D on Saturday.”

“Yeah, that will be a more official celebration,” Will agrees, and he and Mike smile at each other across the circle of bodies for a long moment.

“I don't think I can sleep over,” Jane says, and grimaces a bit apologetically when Mike turns to look at her. “I can come after school,” she adds. “It should be fine.”

“Oh, Max has been sleeping over for ages, my mom won't care as long as we're all in the basement together,” Mike says, waving away her concern with a reassuring smile.

“Yes, but Hop will,” Jane explains. “He said no sleep-overs with Max.”

The only reason Max doesn't cover her burning face with her hands at the boys's burst of laughter is the adorable look of bafflement on Jane's face. The punk girl glances around at their friends uncertainly before meeting Max's eyes with concern, and Max only just stops herself from stepping forward and taking her hands as hot embarrassment melts into a soft glow.

“He specified that, huh?” Dustin grins, elbowing Max obnoxiously and jolting her out of her Jane-induced daze. “Shit, Max, you already find yourself in a situation where – Ow!” he breaks off when Max punches his shoulder with a scowl. “Son of a bitch.”

Lucas whacks Dustin upside the head hard enough to knock his baseball cap askew. “Cool it, look where we are,” he whispers, and they all glance around them as if realizing for the first time that they were at school.

“Sorry,” Jane says quietly, her wide, starlit eyes meeting Max's across the circle.

“Don't be,” Max smiles, and Jane's face relaxes, although this may be from the long pull she takes from her cigarette as she smiles at Max. “Not your fault that all our friends are idiots,” she adds, raising her voice on the last word as the boys snicker around them.

“Idiots who are college-bound, baby,” Lucas brags, and Max can't help her smile as Dustin and Mike grin and high-five across Jane.

“I never heard, Jane, which colleges did you get into so far?” Will says, turning his big, kind eyes to the girl across from him.

All of the warmth from the morning seeps out of Max's suddenly-aching body as Jane shakes her head. “I'm not going.”

The boys pause, exchanging a look as if to confirm what they'd just heard before turning towards her. “Like, at all?” Mike says with a frown.

“No,” Jane says quietly. Her face has closed off again under their friends's scrutiny, and she sucks in her cheeks as she takes a long drag of the last of her cigarette and looks down at her feet.

“Why not?” Dustin asks.

Jane shrugs and throws the butt of her cigarette down onto the pavement, crushing it with the toe of her boot as she avoids their eyes. “I'm going back,” she says quietly, black fingernails picking at the knot on the black handkerchief around her wrist. “To my other friends.”

The boys all start, jaws dropping, and then Max is almost pushed out of the circle as they all converge on the other girl like they can keep her there with their bodies blocking her path. “But – the chief said it wasn't safe,” Lucas says lowly, voice soft with concern.

“It was always the plan,” Jane says. “Once it was safer.” Her smile is gentle as she looks between their friends's confused faces, but her shoulders are hunched and she's dangerously close to chewing through her own bottom lip, and Max curses herself for letting her sulking get the best of her right in the moment Jane needs her to not be selfish for once.

“Hey, circle back to remembering where we are,” she whispers, shouldering her way through the press of bodies into the centre of the group. “She's got her plan like the rest of us, okay?”

“But -” Dustin starts, but Lucas smacks his shoulder with the back of his hand and they get distracted with a shoving match. Max looks up to meet Jane's eyes, and despite the heavy realization which has settled so deeply inside her body she can feel it in her bones, her skin still burns familiarly under Jane's gaze. “Besides, once these wastoids settle on a college you'll have that many more places to crash,” she smiles at her girlfriend, and Jane's relieved grin makes her stupid, reckless heart try to throw itself out of her ribcage towards her again even as it aches with the cold. “Although you'd better stay in California the most.”

“I will,” Jane smiles, tilting her head a bit like she's thinking about kissing Max as much as Max is thinking about kissing her, and Max forgets why she was or has ever been upset for a heady minute until Lucas slings an arm around her shoulder and pulls her into his chest with a pointed look.

“School,” he reminds her under his breath, and she sticks her tongue out at him even as she blushes brighter than her hair. “Now I see why the chief was so particular about sleep-overs,” he adds with a grin as he steers her around to head towards the school doors, and she almost drops her prized acceptance letter in their ensuing tickle battle.

“See you guys,” Dustin calls cheerfully as the party stampedes through the doors, and the group disperses towards separate hallways. Jane swings around and walks backwards for a few extra steps to smile at her, and it's only Lucas's arm around her neck propelling her the opposite way down the hall that keeps her moving as she feels the heat from Jane's presence fading away like clouds covering the sun.

“Hey,” Lucas says quietly, and she jumps a bit guiltily before turning towards him. “You know about her plan?”

“Yeah,” Max sighs. She looks down at their feet as they walk, the understanding in his eyes too much for her already-sinking heart. “She told me. It's been her plan since Chief Hopper took her in, way before me, so.” She shrugs, not really sure what she's trying to say.

“And you're cool with it?” Lucas says doubtfully. She still isn't looking at him, but she can practically feel him raise his eyebrows. “Seems kind of dangerous. And you won't exactly be able to see her every day, it sounds-”

The warning bell rings around them, and she ducks away from his arm while he's distracted. “It's cool, Lucas, but Wiskowski's going to kill me, see you in algebra,” she says quickly, letting her long hair swing over her face as she turns to slip into the crowd.

“Max,” Lucas calls, but Max keeps her head down as she plows through the crowd towards her classroom. She almost loses her acceptance letter again when she's jostled by a couple of hulking hockey players as she tries to turn the corner, and she shoves it hastily into the pocket of her coat and takes off running down the hall with abandon.

She thinks of Lucas's face in the car, pinched and worried as he sorted through letters that should have been bringing him good news, and she resolves, setting her jaw stubbornly as she gives up on visiting her locker entirely and sprints for her classroom through the thinning crowd, that she can allow herself to go back to being as happy has she had been this morning. She'd gotten what she wanted for years, and she's spent enough time telling her ambitious, strategic ranger best friend to stop playing level five when he was still on level one to know better than to make herself miserable the same way.

She tries, but doesn't quite succeed, in stuffing down the thought that she might feel this miserable because she's not playing on level one any more when it comes to Jane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really Max you haven't been on level one since the first day of school but okay I guess  
> oof okay I'm really sorry Americans I'm not 100% on how your college system works but from my online research it looks like some colleges in less demand (not whatever ivy league is???) send out letters as early as November, so this is The Beginning but not all of their offers. Hopefully it makes sense in context!!! I don't know how college works help  
> I've got to run but every comment and kudos makes me want to write and school has been killing my soul so you guys are the reason this is actually getting updated<3


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asljdklghsjhflj;lg it cracks me up that you can read 16 chapters of my over-the-top sappy gay writing and think that I could ever make them not end up happily ever after, I love you, trust me!!!

Trying to look like she knows what she's doing, Max leans forward and presses the button on the microphone. "Start again from the last queue, please."

The drama students milling around onstage wave and begin shuffling around to the various brightly-coloured masking tape Xs littering the floor. Max leans one palm against the edge of the soundboard, pulling her long hair away from her face with the other absently as she glances down at the script so riddled with post-it notes she can only read half the dialogue. "Like herding cats," she mumbles under her breath.

Jane snickers, leaning her backside against the edge of the soundboard and watching Max's hands with interest. At the party's insistence she had stayed after school for A.V. club with them, and although their monitor Mr. Hammond had regretfully informed her that it was too late in the year to qualify for the school credit he had allowed her to stay and observe what the club was doing, which today happened to be a technical rehearsal for the Remembrance Day assembly. She's mostly been following around Max, who was sequestered to the technical booth to follow lighting cues, but her wide-eyed interest in every boring adjustment Max had to make was so adorable and distracting that Max wasn't sure how she'd gotten even this far in her duties.

"You think that's bad," Stacy Winters grumbles, adjusting her headset over her pile of chestnut curls. "Try getting them to actually start rehearsal on time."

Max laughs, flipping back a page in the script. "Don't schedule dentist appointments during club hours and you won't get volunteered for managerial positions in your absence, Stace," she teases.

"Yeah, you guys are the real assholes," Stacy says, and both Max and Jane snicker as she presses the button on her headset. "Props stand by, we're going to run that again with the spotlight on the cross this time."

"Stage left?" Max says, picking up the script and rocking back on her heels with a frown. "There's, like, fifteen crosses, Stacy, it's Remembrance Day."

Stacy waves an impatient hand at her, still holding the button on her headset with the other. "No, I said stand by, not move the cross," she snaps.

Max runs her finger down the page, eyebrows furrowed as she leans towards Jane. “Is this even English?” she mumbles, and Jane grins so suddenly Max gets the full impact before she can think to look away and can only blink, giddy and disoriented.

Jane shuffles closer, probably leaning in more than is strictly necessary as she lowers those starlit eyes to the script with a serious pinch of her forehead, and Max swallows noisily when she gets a nose-full of that earthy scent. “The words are covered,” she says wisely, and reaches out to start peeling a post-it note off the page.

“Don't touch that!” Stacy shrieks, and Jane jumps so suddenly she rips the post-it note straight up into the air.

“Hey, watch it,” Max snaps at Stacy, turning her body fully towards Jane, who has backed up against the soundboard with her hand still in the air. “It's not the Mona Lisa, Jesus Christ.” She smiles when her girlfriend's wide eyes slide to hers, and her own eyes drop to Jane's lips at their answering twitch before she can stop herself.

“Sorry, Jane, sorry, that was both at you and the  _idiot_  onstage who thinks he can climb the trellis of poppies to fix the banner,” Stacy frets, and Max watches with glazed eyes as Jane turns her face towards the other girl. “It's just that the drama club director put together that master script and he'll slaughter me if any of the notes are off by, like, half an inch, he thinks it  _is_  the Mona Lisa.”

“Can't follow a script you can't read,” Jane points out, and Max grins, adoring.

Stacy laughs distractedly, leaning over the soundboard to slide a few things around. “Technically it's not meant for reading, it's showing where all the cues are. Which we don't need, because nobody is rehearsing this fucking play anyway. Try it now,” she adds, pressing the button on her headset again. “Well, we can't have him walking there if it interferes, we'll have to balance it out. What if we fed the line into another speaker?”

Jane is watching the actors and crew wander the stage over her shoulder, looking much more breath-taking than she has any right to be when she's just casually leaning against the soundboard. “So many people for one play,” she muses.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Max says, grinning foolishly as she watches Jane watch the chaos. “Too many, honestly, we'd probably get more done if we got rid of half the people helping. It's always like this with the drama club, once we get to the band rehearsal it'll be much more productive.”

Jane's wide eyes snap to hers, and she hopes she sways a bit less dreamily than she feels. “There's a band?”

“Just the school band,” Max explains. She steps forward to make her swoon look more natural, but this turns out to be a mistake as she ends up close enough to breathe in Jane's intoxicating scent again. “Not like your cool underground punk bands, they play classical music.”

Jane makes a face, and Max grips the edge of the soundboard hard in an effort to get a grip on herself when she gets the urge to kiss it away. “Hop likes classical music. Jim Croce.”

Max grins, drumming her sweaty fingers under the soundboard as Jane's countless suns melt away her valiant attempt to keep herself focused. “That's the classics. Adults call their music 'classic' instead of 'old.' Classical music is, like, instrumental."

"Why do they have the same name?" Jane says, frowning at the injustice of this.

Max hums, drifting in the gravitational pull of her adorable frown. "Dunno. I never thought about it, actually, that's a good point. I guess it sounds better than admitting how ancient music from when they were in high school is now."

Jane grins, eyes mischievous as she arches one eyebrow at Max. "Dare you to say that to Hop."

Max laughs, glad for the excuse to duck her head and let her hair swing into her face to hide the undoubtedly pathetic look on her face as her whole body glows. "Yeah, like he needs another reason to disapprove of me," she jokes.

Jane tilts her head, settling back against the soundboard to watch Max with curious eyes. "Hop likes you. He thinks you're a good influence."

"Seriously?" Max says, raising her eyebrows. She's still barely keeping herself from giving into that tractor-beam gaze relentlessly pulling her into her into Jane's orbit, but Chief Hopper is enough of a distraction to let her meet her girlfriend's gaze without doing something dangerous in front of Stacy. "Could have fooled me, what with how he tells me how he disapproves of me before he kicks me out every time I'm over."

Jane rolls her eyes. "That's just how he talks. He's like that to me, and he loves me." She shrugs, like she's stating a fact about the weather.

Max smiles, thinking about gruff, contrary Chief Hopper telling Jane he loves her. "He'd better."

Jane smiles back, watching her with those endless eyes from beneath her thick lashes, and Max's mind slows under her gaze. She glows everywhere, the softness Max has glimpsed beneath her layers of make-up and leather and scowls burning just underneath her skin, and Max is so caught up in her awed staring that she's the one who jumps at Stacy's voice this time.

“No, if you're not in A.V. don't touch the cords -” Stacy lets out a loud groan, pinching the bridge of her nose as she stares down at the stage in dismay. “Son of a bitch, they're paying for that equipment if they damage it. I'm going down there, Max, can you handle the booth by yourself for a bit?”

“Well, we're not actually doing anything, so yeah, I think so,” Max says, crossing her arms over her chest and trying not to look guilty. Stacy spares her an eye-roll as she whirls around to march towards the exit, and Max flashes her a sarcastic thumbs up before she slams the door.

Jane snickers, and Max can feel her smile soften as she turns back to her girlfriend. Jane's eyes are already on her, hypnotizing gaze burning into her skin as it flickers over her face and then down to her hands, and Max is willingly frozen in place when Jane pushes off the edge of the soundboard and pads towards her. “What are you supposed to be doing?”

Max is feverishly asking herself the same thing. She clears her throat before answering, “I'm supposed to be figuring out their stupid stage directions for lights, but they seem to have forgotten that I need them to rehearse in order to have a rehearsal.” Jane's answering grin is blinding, and Max is so disoriented she blurts out her next words without thinking. “Want to learn the controls? We could do a run and see how long it takes for them to notice.”

Jane laughs, that low, husky laugh that makes her heartbeat echo in her stomach, but glances over to the window furtively. “Mr. Hammond said I couldn't touch anything.”

“He won't know,” Max says conspiratorially, drunk on Jane's presence even as the small part of her mind which is still functioning begs her to remember that she shouldn't be drawing attention to the controls she barely understands herself. “He can't see who's working them, if he says anything I'll tell him I was trying to prepare for when we finally started working.”

Jane looks out the glass towards the stage with bright interest. “They can't see us?”

“No, the glass is tinted like a car window, the audience isn't supposed to – hnmmg.” She's interrupted when Jane kisses her hard, knocking her backwards a few steps as she pounces with her whole body. All the words she'd been about to say evaporate under the heat of Jane's countless suns, and she kisses back immediately, raising her hands to cup Jane's cheeks as she relaxes her lips against the other girl's eager ones. She stumbles back another step, out of shaky, disbelieving awe this time, and Jane slides her arms around her waist to pull her closer, sliding their lips together hurriedly like she might never have another chance. Max wraps her arms around Jane's neck and kisses back with abandon, meeting Jane's frantic mouth as best she can as her whole body slows, unable to process so much at once.

Jane pulls their hips together with her palms on the dip in Max's lower back, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Her lips slow, too, gradually as they part Max's and then glide over them like she's finally sure Max will be there even between kisses. She trails her lower lip over both of Max's, shaky breath teasing the redhead's tingling, panting mouth, and then captures them possessively again, kissing her so deeply she feels the heat from her lips blaze through her whole body.

"I wanted to kiss you all day," she says, forming each word hot and slow against Max's mouth, and then raises one hand to cup her cheek as she drags Max's lower lip down with both of her own and slides her tongue over it when Max gasps.

Max has had a running fantasy in the back of her mind about the same thing all day, picturing this very scenario as she took notes and and filled out worksheets and laughed at her friends's jokes, but even the thoughts which had made her belly twist so deliciously she'd had to shift her in her seat pale in comparison to this moment, Jane warm and and soft and  _real_  in her arms, and Max finds she can only show her what she's been thinking by pulling her closer, pressing their lips together harder, sinking her whole, weak body into Jane's to let her feel how much she's been wanting this, too. She's flying, the only part of the world solid and real Jane's body and wet, gasping mouth against hers, and she revels in it, following the other girl willingly as she loses herself in the blazing universe inside of Jane even her feverish memories can never seem to capture the sheer magnitude of.

Jane gives a little whine and pulls her closer when a dull banging brings her back to her quivering body. Max lets her for a dangerous, giddy moment, a lazy smile forming on her swollen lips as they move against her girlfriend's, but a burst of static-y words from a walkie-talkie muffled by the vibrating door tugs at her clouded mind and she turns towards it automatically. She's surprised to find herself in the technical booth, and she has to blink a few times to reorient herself to the dullness of the real world as Jane huffs irritably and buries her flushed face in the mass of red hair at Max's neck.

"Open up, you lovesick dumbasses," Dustin's voice hisses through the closed door, knob rattling with his knocking. "Quick, we don't have much time."

Max glances down at Jane in surprise, but her girlfriend keeps her face buried in her tangled waves and tightens the relentless hold around her waist. Max grins, head spinning, but with Herculean strength she eases out of Jane's embrace with only a reverent kiss to the top of her head and stumbles over to the door on shaky legs.

Dustin is already scowling when she swings the door open, but she hasn't come back down from Jane's kisses yet and she can't quite remember how to return his irritation. "Son of a bitch, Max, why don't you just get a giant, neon sign that says 'Psionic lesbian' if you're going to do that in public?"

That does make her frown. "What?"

"Look, whatever you're doing in here I whole-heartedly support, believe you me, but we're running a double undercover operation here and if your eye-fucking wasn't bad enough this is going to make everyone suspicious of at least one of her secrets -"

"Dustin," Max interrupts impatiently, "can you not be Dustin for five seconds and say what you mean, please?"

"Eye-fucking?" Jane says curiously, appearing at Max's shoulder. Her face is still pink, and Max feels her tingling lips turn up irresistibly in her gravitational pull. "What's that?"

Dustin points to Max, eyebrows raised. "That right there."

"Goodbye, Dustin," Max snaps, and steps backwards to swing the door shut.

Dustin slams a palm against the door before it closes. "I'm telling you, we have to come up with an excuse for -"

"Max!" They all turn to see Stacy running around the corner towards them, face shining. "That was so rad! How did you do that?"

Dustin throws up his arms in resignation, glaring at Max significantly. Max exchanges a bewildered look with Jane before meeting Stacy's eager gaze. "Uh, how did I do what?"

"That thing with the lights!" Stacy waves the clipboard in her hand, headset askew in her excitement. "I thought all the bulbs were going to burst, how did you get them all to go so bright at once?"

Max's heart stops, and then takes off galloping twice as fast. She glances at Jane, which is the worst thing she could have done because the other girl's dark, captivating eyes are wide with worry, but she's biting her now-naked lower lip and Max's stomach swoops for a split-second. "Uhh."

"Power surge," Dustin says quickly, and they all turn to look at him. "From all the re-wiring we've been doing. Must have overloaded the grid by trying to feed too much through the same source at once, right?" If his rambling answer hadn't been an obvious enough lie, the raised eyebrows and head-jerk he gives Max would have given him away.

Max resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Yeah, I, uh - I tried to bring up the auditorium lights and they all came on, I think we have some... Crossed wires somewhere."

Stacy, miraculously, frowns ponderously at her. "That's too bad, it was a really cool effect. Maybe not for Remembrance Day, but we could have used it at a football game, or something. I'll go take a look at the wiring, maybe I can figure out a way to replicate it safely."

"Yeah, you do that," Max mumbles as Stacy turns on her heel to head back towards the stage. She turns back towards Jane once Stacy is out of sight, but Dustin reaches out and grabs each of their wrists, tugging them out of the booth before they can stop him.

"No, you don't," he whispers aggressively, reaching out to slam the door shut once Max has torn her arm from his grasp with a scowl. "We got away with it once, how are you going to explain the lights blowing up when Stacy's in there with the power cut?"

" _We_ didn't get away with anything, dickhole, you couldn't have been more obvious," Max hisses, hoping her bright, guilty blush doesn't diminish the power of her glare.

"I just saved your asses, you didn't even notice she was using her powers," Dustin hisses back with an accusatory finger to her chest. "I assume that was you," he adds with a curious glance at Jane.

Jane nods, wide eyes apologetic as she scratches the back of her neck sheepishly. "Yes. I didn't know I was doing it. Sorry."

"It's okay," Dustin says before Max can answer, and she does roll her eyes at him this time. "It was pretty badass. Hey, you're meant to be in A.V. club, now that I think about it, you can probably run the entire show without touching anything."

"Not by myself," Jane says, and glances at Max with warm eyes.

"Yeah?" Dustin grins, shaking Max out of her Jane-induced daze. "Well, if Max gives you the right  _motivation_  -"

Max punches him in the shoulder hard enough to bruise, and his mouth snaps shut and pulls down into a frown. "Look at my face and finish that sentence," she snaps.

"Fine, Jesus. Come on, the lighting isn't going to be working for awhile and we need you to look at some spotlight angles on the stage. Just be glad it was me who came to save you, Lucas was ready to tear a strip off both of you."

"I can handle Lucas," Max says with an eyeroll. The three of them fall into step, and her stomach flutters obnoxiously when Jane's shoulder brushes hers.

"You think anybody really noticed?" Jane whispers to her, shoving her hands into her pockets as she leans close enough for Max to get a nose-full of her heady scent again.

"If they did, I doubt their first thought is that you, specifically, have superpowers," Max whispers back, and her heart joins her stomach's distracting fluttering when Jane grins at her feet. "All you did was make me look like a technical genius, so thanks for that."

Jane snickers, shoulders relaxing as she raises one hand to cover her grinning mouth. "That was because of you, so you are," she says softly, and looks at Max out of the corner of her warm, smiling eyes.

Max stumbles drunkenly under her gaze, feverishly grateful there are no doors for her to walk into. "Yeah," she says, mostly for lack of any other words in her head, and blushes when Jane snickers again. "Well, I'll look less like a genius when I can't replicate it at a football game or wherever Stacy wants to use it again."

"Guess you'll have to take me to a football game," Jane says softly, holding her eyes seriously with her tractor-beam gaze, and Max, dazedly, feels as if the too-bright lights under Jane's power have only moved from the auditorium to her chest.

"Looks like you understand what eye-fucking is now, Jane," Dustin whispers conspiratorially beside Max, and even when their friends crowd around them to save him from her retaliation and she's separated from the other girl in the ensuing chaos, she still carries Jane's powers blazing in her chest blindingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> elmax bangs and every lightbulb in Hawkins explodes  
> This chapter is dedicated to stanleyvris whose heart I broke last chapter after I think they just started reading this recently, thanks for the bomb-ass comments and also bomb-ass fics you write, hopefully this is the happy chappy chapter you wanted!!!  
> If I don't answer comments tonight I'll be around for Easter so I'll answer soon and I'm going to post one of my bitchin' request this week, friends don't lie!!!<3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again these kids are interested in a bunch of stuff I don't know anything about, my gf's a huge Star Wars nerd so all my info's from her, if it's wrong don't get mad at her because she's the most amazing person in the world but that and the internet is my main SW source so hopefully it's accurate enough if anyone's a fan  
> This chapter is dedicated to @neveranswersjustquestions who wanted byler that wasn't rushed, hopefully this beginning is all you dreamed!!!

Ever since Max had pressed the gas pedal of her father's station wagon for the first time when she was twelve and taken off at break-neck speeds through the abandoned parking lot, she had thought there could be nothing as exhilarating as driving. She loved her skateboard, and her surfboard, but nothing had ever reached the rush of speeding along the pavement so fast the world blurred at the edges. Her father had laughed and mussed her hair when she had declared herself a “Zoomer” for the first time in that empty parking lot, but she'd known, with the certainty of her twelve years, that she had found where she belonged, that there was no bigger joy than flying with the purr of an engine beneath her.

Watching Jane laugh now, delicate features soft and pleased with herself even as her breathtaking eyes gazed down at their entwined hands over the gear shift almost shyly, Max thinks that her twelve-year-old self had no idea what true, rushing, flying joy could feel like.

“I liked it,” Jane is saying, so distractingly beautiful as she smiles down at their joined fingers that Max forgets to at least pretend to watch the road for a dangerous moment. “I just didn't... Get it. Why did we watch the fourth movie first?”

“It's the first movie,” Max grins, rubbing her thumb along Jane's bony knuckles as she turns her chin back to face the windshield in an effort to get a hold of herself. “There is no episode I to III. The 'Episode IV' thing got added after the movie got a sequel, they wanted to make it into a series once it was successful, kind of in the style of the serials before movies at the drive-in.”

“Serials?” Jane says curiously. Max sees her tilt her head out of the corner of her eye, and giddiness balloons so disorientingly in her stomach that she eases her foot off of the gas pedal just to be safe.

“Serials are these shorts that they used to play before movies at the drive-in,” she explains, forcing herself to glance away from Jane's doe eyes shining in the shadows of her car as she shoulder-checks before a turn. “They had this on-going episodic story-line, so you had to come back to every movie to see what happened. They don't really do them any more, at least at The Hawk, but that's the style they were going for with the episode titles for Star Wars. You ever been to a drive-in?”

“No,” Jane says, unblinking eyes filled with more stars than the night sky above them as she gazes across the parking break at Max. “What is drive-in?”

“It's another type of movie theatre, where they show movies outside and you drive your car up to the screen to watch. In places like Hawkins it's pointless, like, six months out of the year, because it's too cold, but they open one in the spring and show movies once a week. We can go and see something, once it's warm enough,” she says, and then swallows hard and keeps her eyes carefully on the road as she tries not to think about the implications of her offer because of what kids usually did on dates at the drive-in.

“Okay,” Jane says with a smile in her voice, oblivious to both Max's guilty thoughts and the electricity crackling across her skin from the innocent caresses of the punk girl's fingers. “Do they show Star Wars?”

“Nah, usually they show old movies, since it's pretty nostalgic for the grown-ups who went to the drive-in when they were our age. It's usually a double-feature special event thing. I like the old monster movie nights.”

“Monster movies?” Jane repeats, and Max sees her crinkle her nose in her peripheral vision.

Max grins, turning reluctantly onto Chief Hopper's street. “Not a horror fan?”

“I'll watch them,” Jane says quietly, watching Max's thumb run along her skin from beneath her thick eyelashes.

“You don't have to,” Max says, glancing at her curiously as she slows the speed of the engine to prolong their drive towards the trailer. “Are they – do they bring up stuff from the lab, or...?”

“No,” Jane says, and Max accidentally accelerates along the country road when Jane looks up suddenly to meet her eyes reassuringly. “I just don't get them. Like Star Wars. But you like them.”

“Yeah, but you don't have to like what I like,” Max smiles, drifting in the galaxies in her girlfriend's eyes as she stops the car in front of Chief Hopper's lawn by muscle memory alone. She squeezes Jane's hand, and her heart pumps faster than it has for any car engine when Jane squeezes back. “We don't have to watch something just because I like it.”

“You listen to my music,” Jane points out.

“Yeah, but your music is awesome,” Max says, and basks in the brilliant glow of Jane's answering smile. “I like it. Star Wars, skateboarding, it's so cool that you're willing to try all this new stuff, but if it's not for you then you don't have to do it any more. I just really like being around you.”

Jane smiles at her, shining softly in the shadows of her car, and Max keeps her eyes open for as long as she can to gaze at her in wonder when she leans forward. Max's lashes flutter and drift close as soon as Jane's lips touch hers, though, and she sighs and leans into the soft kiss, the hand not entwined with Jane's rising to cup the back of the other girl's neck as she relaxes her lips into Jane's.

Jane pulls back just enough to press their foreheads together, nose brushing Max's reverently as she exhales. “I don't think I like monster movies,” she whispers.

Max grins, adoring. “Okay.” She runs her thumb up the back of Jane's neck as her girlfriend leans in to kiss her again, blunt nail skating the gelled hairline as she moves her lips with Jane's slowly. She hears Jane's seatbelt catch when she tries to lean eagerly across the gear shift, and she smiles into Jane's little frown, giddy.

“I wish you could have stayed,” she sighs, massaging the back of Jane's neck as she presses greedy little kisses along her chapped lower lip.

“Me too,” Jane says softly, her free hand curling in Max's coat over her stomach as if the redhead had any plans of moving even an inch away from her. “I didn't even mention you, but Hop knew anyway.”

Max snickers. Just as Jane had predicted, Chief Hopper had forbade her from sleeping over with the party at Mike's house on Friday night, but had allowed her to spend the evening with them with the understanding that she would be home by midnight. The party had spent the night eating pizza and finally introducing Jane to Star Wars, and although she loved spending time with all of her favorite people in the same room Max is enjoying her little, stolen moment alone with Jane so thoroughly that she's tempted to make her girlfriend a few minutes late for her curfew. The thought makes her glance at the clock over the tape deck, however, and Jane's little sigh against her lips lets her know she's done the same.

"Three minutes," Jane whispers.

"Yeah," Max says, dizzy, body lighting up like the night sky with Jane's constellations when she feels those full lashes brush her flushing cheeks. "What shall we do with three minutes?" She leans in to kiss the other girl hard.

Jane smiles against her lips even as she returns the kiss with equal enthusiasm, but she hums and draws back just enough to nuzzle Max's nose after a heady, glorious moment. "Max," she says.

"I know," Max sighs, and pulls Jane back in for one last, longing kiss with the hand on the back of her neck. Jane presses a sweet, chaste kiss against her downturned lips as she pulls back, and Max has to sit back in her seat for a few dizzy beats of her stupid, lovesick heart before she can scramble out of the car after her girlfriend.

Jane lights up dazzlingly when she slams the car door shut and jogs around the trunk towards her. "Are you coming in? I thought you were going back to Mike's."

"I am," Max says, reaching for her hand as they start across the frozen lawn together. "I'm just walking you to your door. It's what you do after a date."

"Really?" Jane smiles. Her fingers are already cold from the night air as they weave through Max's, but Max finds she doesn't mind. "Why?"

Max looks up at the night sky, trying not to blush. "Um. Well, to make sure you get in safe, for one."

"Safe?" Jane says curiously. Max glances irresistibly over at her to see her breath-taking features scrunched up as if she's giving this new information serious consideration, and she can't bring herself to do anything about her pathetically goofy grin. "Safe from what?"

Max shrugs, rubbing her thumb over Jane's icy knuckles as they pad up the steps towards the trailer. "I don't know. Probably nothing in Hawkins."

"What about when you go back to your car?" Jane says, eyebrows furrowed with concern as she turns towards Max on the porch. "Is that safe? Should I use my powers?"

Bursting with too many feelings to be contained in a mere human body at once, Max laughs and is just starting to pull Jane close to show her the real reason she had walked her to the trailer when the door bangs open and Chief Hopper fills the doorway, glowering down at them.

"You're late," he snaps at Jane.

"What? No she -" Max glances down at the watch on her wrist and frowns. "Like two minutes."

"We were here on time," Jane says, glowering back at Chief Hopper like she has any moral ground to stand on in this argument as she tightens her grip on Max's coat stubbornly when the other girl tries to shuffle away.

"On time means in the door before your curfew," Chief Hopper growls. "Not just starting to say goodbye when you're already  _like two minutes_  late. Kissing is on your own time."

Max blushes furiously, but Jane perks up and turns towards the other girl. "Is that part of walking to the door, too?"

"Get in the house, kid," Chief Hopper says, fixing Jane with a glare and holding the door open with one beefy hand around the edge. Max is so focused on avoiding his eyes she jumps in surprise when Jane pecks her lips quickly before striding past Chief Hopper into the trailer with an equally-annoyed frown. Chief Hopper steps backwards into the trailer and points at Max with his eyebrows raised once the taller girl stomps out of sight, saying, "Next time it's eleven thirty," before slamming the door in Max's face.

Max's jaw drops, and she shoves her frozen hands into the pockets of her coat with irritation as she stares at the closed door. "'Thinks I'm a good influence' my ass," she mutters.

Still, she can't find it in herself to frown as she shifts her weight on her heels and glances down at the spot on the porch that Jane had just occupied, and she's so lost in memories of the heat of Jane's countless suns warming her in the frigid Indiana night that she forgets she's supposed to be leaving until the porch lights shut off abruptly above her.

\---

She's just starting to sink into the memory of Jane's smile against her lips when a voice from the floor makes her jump. "Max, you awake?"

She flushes, shifting guiltily inside the sleeping bag even though Mike couldn't know what she'd been thinking about. "Well I am now," she grumbles.

"You can see everyone from up there, right? Is W - are they all asleep?" He's hissing at her from right beside the couch, voice so close she wonders if he's right beside her ear until she rolls her head on the pillow and sees no one.

"I don't know, I'm not keeping a record," she snaps. "They will be if you don't shut up, though."

He huffs. "Can you just take two seconds out of your life and look?"

Max rolls her eyes at the ceiling, but she props herself up on her elbow and looks around the room. In the weak moonlight streaming in through the basement windows she sees their friends laying in their sleeping bags, Will and Dustin curled up together with their bent knees touching on the other side of Mike, Lucas drooling on the back of the couch where he's curled up at her feet after refusing to admit defeat in their wrestling match for the coveted couch. She lies back down, sleeping bag crinkling noisily as she settles onto her pillow and closes her eyes. "Sleeping confirmed, more at eleven."

It's more the fact that he doesn't snap back at her attitude than his words that makes her open her eyes when he speaks again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, I guess," she says softly, turning her head towards his voice even though she knows she can't see him. "I reserve the right to hit you if it's about me and Jane, though."

"Ugh, I don't want to think about  _that_ ," he mutters, and she grins at the disgust in his voice. "Catching you guys making out is bad enough. No, it's - it's about something else." His voice trails off, and she hears him rustling around in his own sleeping bag like he's fidgeting.

She raises her eyebrows at the ceiling, curiosity growing with his silence. "Offer expires if I fall asleep."

"Okay, okay, Jesus." He rustles around a little bit more then stills, voice hesitant when he finally speaks. "How did - How do you know you like girls?"

Max shrugs, even though he can't see her. "I looked at them."

"Fine, I'll ask Jane," he grumbles, and she hears him roll over in a great crinkling of sleeping bag fabric.

"No, I'm serious, Mike," she says, trying to make her voice more gentle as she rolls over to the edge of the couch. He's pressed right against the bottom, back facing her, the sleeping bag pulled up so high she can only see the tangle of his loose curls peeking out. "I just... Liked looking at them, instead of boys. Isn't that how you feel looking at girls?"

He rolls over onto his back, but he flings one skinny forearm over the tiny portion of his head poking out of the sleeping bag and doesn't look at her. "Yeah, I guess. But - But how did you know you  _liked_  them, like you're attracted to them and would date them instead of just being friends?"

Max furrows her eyebrows, balancing her chin on the back of the hand she has wrapped around the edge of the couch. "Sorry, I don't get what you're asking."

He sighs, shifting restlessly. "Like, Jane versus Lucas. You and Lucas are still all over each other, but it's totally platonic and it never gets weird. How do you know it's just friendly touching?"

Max frowns down at him, confused. "Because I'm a lesbian?"

"Okay, bad example. Wh - What about other girls, like Jane versus Stacy Winters from A.V., how do you know you like one and not the other?"

"I'm -" Max stares down at him, not sure whether she should be upset with him or not. "I don't just want to make out with every girl I see, Mike."

"Jesus fuck, I know, but what if -" he exhales, and it ruffles the sleeping bag over his face a bit. "What if you knew somebody, and you never really thought about how you want to be around them all the time and make them smile and protect them because you're both guys but now you know that liking girls doesn't mean you can't like guys too and you're starting to wonder if that friendship love is actually romantic love?"

Max pauses, then sinks back onto the couch cushions. "Oh."

"Yeah," Mike exhales. She hears him swallow, but his fidgeting has been replaced with careful stillness.

"Hey," she says softly. He still doesn't move, so she leans over the edge of the couch, long hair tumbling over the cushion to brush his sleeping bag as she hangs over him. "Mike, look at me."

He sighs, but he takes his arm off his eyes and meets her gaze. His eyes are black in the shadowy room, shining back at her cautiously through the dark, and she hopes there is enough moonlight on her face that he can see her smile. “That's great,” she says, trying to imitate the encouraging tone Will had used with her in this exact situation. “What did Jane call it, bisexuality? It's awesome that having a name for it helped you realize.”

Mike's smile is hesitant, but his eyes warm in the darkness. “Yeah, but I don't know if I did realize,” he says, voice so quiet she can barely hear it over Lucas's obnoxious snores even though their faces are inches away from each other. “Like, I don't know how to tell if what I feel for – guys – is the same as with girls, or if I'm just being suggestible with you guys coming out all at once.”

“Yeah, because we made it look so glamorous,” Max jokes, and she's relieved to hear his familiar wholehearted chuckle muffled through his sleeping bag. “Maybe it doesn't have to be the same," she says, leaning her cheek against the hand gripping the couch as she considers. "If you like them, you like them, you never had to think this hard about whether your attraction to girls was romantic love."

"Yeah, but that's what makes it so confusing," Mike says, voice tight with anxiety as he furrows his brows at her. "If I never had to think about it with girls, then why am I not sure what I feel for boys?"

"Probably because everyone ever has expected you to like girls," Max points out, and she returns his flash of a grin in the dark, encouraged. "You don't have to decide right this second, either, no one's going to pop quiz you about your sexuality. The three of us had years to figure it out. I'm glad you told me, but I'm not exactly an expert on being attracted to boys." He snickers and whacks her with one of the throw pillows strewn across the floor from her battle with Lucas over the couch, and she knows he's feeling more like himself. "You could ask Will," she adds absently, rolling onto her shoulder to push her frizzing hair out of her face.

His long, guilty pause is more telling than any words he could have said, and she shoots upwards as the realization hits her all at once. "Is Will -?"

"Shut up!" he hisses, sitting up to clamp a hand across her mouth as she grins widely at him. "Jesus, why do I tell you anything?"

Max hits him in the back of the head with the throw pillow, and he's distracted enough to drop his hand from her face. "Are you serious?" she whispers, kneeling on the couch to face him with a painfully-wide grin as he grumbles and runs his fingers through his curls. "You're in love with Will? Like, in love in love? Since when?"

"Max, shut the fuck up, seriously," he whispers back, and the look on his face as he glances over his shoulder at Will makes her reluctantly settle back onto the couch cushions, although she can't contain her smirk. "You can't tell him, okay? You can't tell  _anyone_."

"Fine, I won't tell anyone," she says, and although he rolls his eyes she sees his face relax. "Except Jane," she adds, and he snorts as he settles on his side across the floor, but he nods a bit nervously. "I think you should tell him, though," she says softly, peering over the edge of the cushions with serious eyes. "We're kind of past the deep, dark secret thing in the party at this point, and friends don't lie. Plus he's so in love with you he'll be over the moon about it, it's not like it's a bad secret."

The grin which spreads across his face is softer than anything she's ever seen him wear. "He loves me?"

Max winces, cursing herself. "Uhhh."

"How are you so goddamn bad at this every time?" Mike says, but his grin only grows wider. "Did he say that to you, or are you guessing?"

Max snorts. "Like I would be able to guess something like that," she mutters, and Mike chuckles. "When we were first talking about this, the night we came out to each other, he mentioned it."

"Yeah?" Mike's voice is dreamy with the softness he usually reserves for talking to Will. "What did he say?"

"He said, 'I sure wish Mike would gossip about my feelings with a third party instead of just talking to me about it like a normal person,'" Max says, and Mike sits up to reach for the throw pillow on her lap to whack her again. She's too fast for him, though, and he squawks so loudly when she smacks him in the face with the pillow that Lucas jumps and grunts at her feet.

"Whassamatter?" Lucas groans, eyes still closed as he rolls his face towards them along the back of the couch.

"Mike is just being a whiny bitch, nothing new," Max says to Lucas in a soothing voice, and she grins when Mike pushes the pillow in her hands back into her face. "Go back to sleep," she says, voice muffled.

Lucas makes an unintelligible noise and buries his face in the top of the couch. Max and Mike snicker together, and although they exchange a glance in silent agreement that their conversation should be continued another time, Mike's smile is so bright as he looks at her settle back down onto the couch she feels as if she might not need the moonlight across his face to see it.

"Hey, Max?" he whispers, barely loud enough for her to hear even though she's inches away from his smiling mouth. "Thanks."

She smiles back at him. "Thank me by talking to him," she whispers back, and even in the shadows she can see his bright blush.

He wriggles back into his sleeping bag and turns his back to her again, but even without seeing she knows the expression on his face as he gazes across the room intently is the same one she wears when she closes her eyes and returns to Jane's lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually was so worried about the Max & Mike scene that I revealed my fic writer nerdiness to a couple of bi friends and made them read over it to make sure it works okay, I hope you guys like it!!! I'm having some writer's block right now which sucks with 4 WIPs so I'm going to go read comments and hopefully have time to answer them if you guys are still reading this and enjoying it thank you


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twenty chapters of this gay nonsense, make some noise elmax fandom!!!  
> I feel like this one's kind of significant, if only because I had a completely different Max chapter almost finished before El walked into my head and kept me up until 5:00AM this morning writing this. I can't write her unless she does this, so hopefully this works and isn't five-in-the-morning nonsense that only I think contributes to the story. This is mostly Max's story but seeing where El is coming from is important to what little plot this has so I hope you enjoy it!!! This chapter is dedicated to the person who said that seeing El's perspective would be awesome, I swear to god I got a comment like this but I went through like 10 pages of my inbox and I can't find it so just know I appreciate you and remember your comment even if I can't remember your username!!!

Ever since she had stepped her bare foot onto cold grass and crunchy leaves for the first time when she had first escaped the lab, Eleven had been hiding. She had traveled by night in stolen clothes with stolen money, avoiding curious gazes and helpful inquiries, to find Kali, who had already cultivated a life of hiding with only the most trusted friends knowing even of her existence, and even in this insulated group of trustworthy, hand-picked loyal followers Eleven had been taught from the moment she had called Kali “Sister” how to stay in the shadows, how to read strangers, how to set up camp in an abandoned building without calling attention to her presence. She had perfected her art of disappearing so thoroughly that the eye contact Hopper had tried to make, the gentle voice and reassuring proximity as he'd tried to maintain to gain her trust, had confused her so badly she'd scuttled away like a frightened squirrel before she'd gotten used to him out of necessity. And necessity was what almost everything she'd ever done had been born from: the necessity of running from Papa and everything she'd ever known into a world bigger than she could imagine ever after living in it for almost seven years; repeating the speech patterns and confusing vocabulary back again and again under her breath to her sister in the shadows of different warehouses and condemned buildings every night whether she understood the meanings or not; following a police chief after having it drilled into her head to avoid them at any cost necessary since she had learned what a police chief  _was,_ away from everything she knew for the second time in her life to pretend to be someone she didn't want to be. Living a life in hiding meant bare necessities were sometimes more than she could expect to have, and she had never had to consider beyond finding and sustaining whatever her need at that time was for her to stay alive.

Survival was different in Hawkins. All of her expertly-honed hiding skills were useless to her here, and she had, somehow, found something new about herself that she had to hide that even years of surviving with only necessities could not help her conceal.

Max is a classical kind of beauty, she muses to herself as she watches her girlfriend's long red hair ripple in the cold November wind across the front lawn of the school. She's never been to a history museum or art gallery, but from what she's managed to find in school books and paintings she'd spent too long staring at through windows of businesses she would never be welcome inside, Max had the kind of Renaissance beauty which has inspired painters and poets and musicians to create art for centuries. Watching her was like seeing an oil painting come to life and ride a skateboard along the salted sidewalk in front of the school, raising her middle finger at Mike as she glided past, and Eleven could understand the inspiration behind the poems in English class she had struggled with resentfully at the beginning of the school year as she watches from the front steps. She was certainly inspiring to Eleven, although what she inspired the brunette wasn't sure, beyond the longing which seems to have lodged itself into her belly and taken up residence there permanently to remind her that she wanted to be kissing Max every time she wasn't, and the dreamy staring which Hopper warns will give away what has become one of her most important secrets, now, because it protects Max, too. At the thought Eleven looks away to the lighter in her hand, flicking it on and off absently a few times even though she's almost done the cigarette currently between her lips.

“And then you throw the pieces into the air and win whichever ones you catch,” Lucas says casually beside her.

Eleven frowns, pinching her cigarette between two fingers and looking over at him curiously. “After all the moves?”

Lucas grins at her, shoulders hunched against the wind as he bumps her knee with his own. “I was just seeing if you were paying attention. I get Max with that almost every time.”

Eleven smiles at him. It's a reflex at hearing Max's name, but it's almost impossible not to smile at Lucas when he smiles at her first. Max makes him smile all the time, but that was the only appropriate reaction to Max. “I'm paying attention,” she says.

Lucas gives her a knowing grin and raises an eyebrow, looking back over the lawn. She follows his gaze back to Max, who is swivelling her hips to turn the skateboard as she laughs at something Dustin is saying, and the longing in her belly lights up brighter than any bulb could even when she uses her powers. Max seems to feel her gaze and looks over, beautiful face brightening like Eleven's powers have lit her up, too, and she waves, holding Eleven's eyes long enough to wink before she has to turn again. Eleven's heart flutters and flurries like the complex, buzzing energy she'd felt from the Tesla ball even without touching it, and she consciously separates herself from any electricity she feels humming around her like an extension of her own body.  _No need to get craz_ y is one of Hopper's favourite sayings, and it seems to apply to everything she feels for Max, at least according to him.

“No point in staying apart if you're going to be doing that stuff even from a distance,” Lucas points out quietly.

Eleven turns to make a face at him. Hopper has been after her to stop hanging off Max at school all the time, and although she'd rolled her eyes theatrically and explained that he sees them away from the prying eyes of the nosy high school students and she knows to be less obvious in public, she had promised to be conscious of how much she gravitates towards Max instead of their other friends. She likes the boys, and having friends to surround herself with who treat her like one of them even when they know about her powers is a relief she hadn't realized she'd been so desperate for until she'd found it, but the boys don't make her feel like a live spark in the power lines overhead just by smiling at her from across the lawn. She supposed that's the point of Hopper's argument. “Eye-fucking,” she mutters, and sucks in her cheeks to get every last bit of smoke from her cigarette as her gaze is dragged back to Max irresistibly.

Lucas bursts out laughing, which distracts her momentarily from watching Max high five Mike without slowing her momentum on the skateboard. “Oh, Jesus,” he grins, taking his hands out of his coat pockets to lean his weight on the step behind them. “You said it, Jane. That's fucking hilarious.”

It hadn't been meant to be funny, only an acknowledgement of what Dustin had explained that they were doing, but Eleven smiles at Lucas's laughter anyway. The party is never mocking when they laugh at her, even when she doesn't know something or needs a word explained, and she's grateful beyond what her ever-expanding vocabulary can express. “Fucking hilarious,” she repeats smugly.

Max had looked over at the sound of Lucas's laughter, and she tucks a lock of her stunningly-beautiful red hair behind her ear and smiles when Eleven meets her eyes. She steps off the skateboard while it's still moving and catches the back with her boot, propelling it up into her hand in one graceful movement, and Eleven's heart crackles with the combined power of the wiring in the building around them and the very different electricity sparking invisible in the air between them. She bites her lower lip as Max starts walking across the lawn towards them, and Lucas groans softly beside her.

“Fucking hell, you can't last five minutes over there?” he mutters to himself, but Eleven flashes him a frown anyway. Max had mostly been away from her so that Eleven wouldn't have to listen to Hopper's lectures for the whole weekend when he came to pick her up from school to start their road trip to visit her probation officer, but the ever-present awareness of how much time away from Max she was staring down once she left with her adoptive father made the inevitable lectures seem like the better option.

“What's so funny, Jane?” Max says, grinning easily as she bounds down the pathway towards her friends. She throws down her skateboard and collapses all at once onto the step in front of Eleven, mass of hair flying around her chaotically, and Eleven smiles at her. “I know Lucas isn't funny so it's got to be you,” she adds, winking up at Eleven as she settles onto the concrete step with a little wiggle at the cold.

“Lucas is teaching me about chess,” Eleven smiles, basking in her. The world quiets at Max's very presence, the harsh, too-bright edges softening enough that she can focus beyond what she needs to get her through the next minute. Max isn't a necessity, and Eleven likes that about her, but the more time they spend together the more she's starting to feel like one.

Max raises her eyebrows, hair flying as her head whips towards Lucas. “Oh, that's right, you're new here,” she says, presumably to Eleven even as she leans over to punch the grinning boy in the leg. “You don't play Lucas at chess. Don't let him take advantage of you.”

“Take advantage?” Eleven repeats curiously, looking between Max and Lucas. She can't imagine Lucas ever taking advantage of her, but she knows the two best friends communicate almost entirely in insults they don't mean. They remind her of Axe and Mack, hurling cruel words at each other so rapidly she'd hidden behind Kali whenever they'd been in the same room together when she had first joined the gang but unwilling to hear even a thought against the other person from anyone else, adoring each other beyond kindness. Unlike Axe and Mack, who still made her tense when they started raising their voices even now, she loved watching Max and Lucas together; she would be jealous of their fierce loyalty and intimate understanding of each other if it was possible to resent something so wonderful.

Lucas is rolling his eyes at Max. “Just because these guys are big babies whenever I kick their asses at chess they won't play me any more. Can't take advantage if you have no advantage,” he teases Max, and they scrabble a bit on the steps as Max tries to hit him again and he tries to grab her flailing hands.

“Sure, you waited to corner her alone because you play fair and don't cheat at all,” Max fires back, lunging forward to swat at the laughing boy's defensive hands. Her shoulder brushes Jane's knee with her movement, and Jane unfocuses her eyes to pull her powers away from the lights again.

“I don't need to cheat,” Lucas laughs. “I don't even have a board, how could I be taking advantage of her at all?”

“How could you be teaching her?” Max retorts. She ducks away from his hands and starts to slide back onto her own step, and only once Lucas relaxes does she dart forward to poke his stomach before scuttling out of his reach. Eleven snickers, and the grin Max flashes her makes her toes curl in her heavy boots.

“Yeah, well, that's not the worst thing I could be teaching her,” Lucas smirks, swatting at her with his boot as she settles against the railing behind her. “I'd tone down the  _eye-fucking_  before Chief Hopper gets here.”

Max blushes instantly, face freezing before she forces it into a scowl at Lucas's laugh. Eleven watches her, biting her lip painfully deeply to stop her smile. Max blushes  _at the drop of a hat_ , a confusing phrase Hopper uses that no one can explain to her but has stuck so curiously in her mind, probably because of how nonsensical it is, that she finds herself using it with growing confusion that no one else seems to wonder what it means. People in the real world seem both embarrassed and fascinated about sex, which is as confusing a combination as Hopper's hat phrase, and although she doesn't always understand the joke Eleven will never get tired of watching Max flush as bright and beautiful as her hair when their friends tease her about it. Better yet, Eleven adores being the one to make her blush; it's very easy, and she isn't sure what she does to prompt it most of the time, although every time she tries to join in with their friends on purpose when they start making innuendos she seems to get stuck thinking about doing what she's implying and she loses track of the conversation.

Max leans forward to punch a sniggering Lucas in the thigh again, and this time he lets her. “Go fuck yourself, mouth-breather,” she hisses, which only makes Lucas laugh harder. “Come up with your own goddamn lines if you're going to pull this shit, stealing from Dustin of all people is unbecoming.”

Lucas grins and opens his mouth, but a car horn makes all three of them look towards the pick-up circle. She almost dismisses it when she sees a tiny green car instead if Hopper's police cruiser, but a familiar face pokes out from the half-lowered window and smiles when she catches her eye.

“Flo?” she mutters, throwing her cigarette butt down onto the step and crushing it with the steel toe of her boot. She can roll her eyes at Hopper's cigarette lectures, but she wasn't prepared to deal with Flo's piercing look of disapproval on top of everything today.

“Who?” Max says, turning back to her with confusion. She gets little crinkles beside her squinting eyes when she doesn't understand something, and Eleven has to take a moment to bite her sore lip to control her smile before she can answer.

“The secretary at the police station,” she explains to her friends. She turns to grab her backpack from the step behind her, stomach sinking as she rises to her feet. “Hop must have sent her to pick me up.”

“Oh,” Max sighs. She ducks her head, long silky hair draping over her beautiful face to hide it from Eleven as she stands, too, and Eleven's hand twitches with the urge to pull it back.

“Well, I guess 'have fun' is the wrong thing to say, but good luck, Jane,” Lucas smiles, standing beside her on the step. He holds open his arms, and she swings her backpack over one shoulder and steps into his hug without hesitation.

When she pulls back from him, Max is watching her with a sad expression. She smiles when Eleven's gaze meets hers, but it doesn't reach her eyes. “Yeah, you've done this before, right?” she says, voice sweet and reassuring even as the skin beside her eyes crinkles again. “No brainer.” She opens her arms with a small grin.

Eleven pads down the step and wraps her arms around her girlfriend. She knows it's a very different hug than her embrace with Lucas, even from the outside, but now that she's finally,  _finally_  close to Max she can't seem to make herself step away. Max's arms are tight and reassuring around her back, her body warm and soft even with her puffy coat in the way, and Eleven squeezes her eyes shut and tries to memorize everything about this moment, tries to paint every detail about how Max feels against her in the lines of electricity in her mind. Max always sets everything inside of her wild and sparkling, like her powers are surging even though she's had conscious control over them ever since she can remember, and she lets the image of her be burned into her mind. She takes a deep, greedy breath of Max's hair, trying to fill her natural senses with Max as well as her supernatural ones, and even though she knows it's dangerous her heart crackles when Max doesn't drop her arms until she's stepped out of reach.

“But, hey, you get back Saturday, right?” Max says, her smile a bit more genuine as she watches Eleven pull the second strap of her backpack over her shoulder. “We're all going to be at Mike's, probably sleeping over knowing how these nerds get into D&D. We'll be up late, you should come by whenever you get home.”

“I want to,” Eleven says quietly. She knows she's doing the longing staring again, but she won't be able to stare at all in a minute so she doesn't care. “Hop says it depends on how late it is, he doesn't want to drive me around the town after a road trip  _at all hours_.”

“Tell him I'll drive,” Max says quickly, and Eleven only has time to grin at her before the other boys swarm around them.

“Are these goodbye hugs?” Dustin says, face sad even as he holds out his arms eagerly. Eleven nods and trots the rest of the way down the steps, and she exchanges much shorter hugs with the rest of her friends before slipping out of the group towards the pathway to the road. She turns to give one last wave over her shoulder, and she's simultaneously glad to see Lucas's arm around Max's back and cold with the lack of an arm around hers as the world comes back into sharp, painful relief the further she gets from her girlfriend.

Flo gives her a squeezing one-armed hug as soon as she slams the door, and it's not Max but it helps alleviate the pressure in her chest enough to breathe again. “Hello, stranger,” Flo jokes, pulling back to turn the key in the ignition as Eleven smiles a bit reluctantly. “How have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages.”

Eleven nods; now that she's not in lockdown between the trailer and the police station like she had been before she'd started school, she doesn't visit the station any more, not eager to sit under the probing scrutiny of the officers and watch Hopper have a meltdown reprimanding his force five times a day, but Flo had been the first person in Hawkins to be nice to her besides Hopper and she missed the older woman. Hopper called her  _maternal_ , which he said meant she acted motherly towards Eleven, and although Eleven has never had a mother if this was what it was like she would have enjoyed it. “I'm good,” she says in response to Flo's question as the older woman pulls the car out onto the street. “School is better.”

“Yes, I heard you found yourself some good friends,” Flo says, and Eleven smiles at the thought of the party. “They look like nice kids.”

“The nicest,” Eleven agrees, and Flo chuckles. “My detentions are done, so I get to go to A.V. Club with them, but I don't really know how any of their machines work. They're teaching me. How are you?”

“I'm good,” Flo says with an affectionate smile. “It's been hard, teasing your father for the both of us, but I've kept up the mantle until you come back to help me out.”

Eleven laughs, storing the phrase  _kept up the mantle_  in her mind to ask Hopper about tonight. Flo has always been nice when Eleven has asked her questions, but Hopper had warned her against asking for clarification too many times in a row with people who didn't know her situation to keep them from wondering more than they already did.  _You ask questions, they can ask questions, and that's the last thing we want, kid_.

“Your father's just catching up with his paperwork so that he can take the days off with you,” Flo explains. Eleven likes that Flo always refers to Hopper as  _her father_ , even though they both know who she's talking about. “He's got a mountain to get through, which he was trying to moan about to anyone who would listen until I reminded him that it was about a month's worth of work at once he could have already had done.”

Eleven laughs. “He probably sent you to give him time to bribe Callahan.”

They snicker together as Flo parks in front of the station. Eleven watches her boots as she follows Flo towards the doors, carefully avoiding eye contact with everyone she passes, but she still hears the tell-tale hush wash over the precinct when she pushes the doors open and lopes reluctantly inside.

Her shoulders tense, and she bites down hard enough on her lower lip that she winces. The buzz of conversation picks back up immediately, but it's too careful, and she can feel the eyes on her even without lifting her head. She tries to call up the memory of Max wrapped around her that she'd burned into her mind earlier, but the white noise of the station seems to penetrate her thoughts like radio static.

She sees Flo pick up a folder from her desk without looking at it. “I'll walk you to your father's office, I have something to give him anyway,” Flo says, and she leads the way through the rows of desks. Eleven sighs and follows her, still carefully watching her boots, and she resists the urge to play with the lights above her in irritation when she sees officers and civilians alike turn in their seats to get a look at her when they think she can't see them.

She exhales when she finally reaches Hopper's office, hand gripping the strap on her backpack so tightly she can feel the seam digging into her palm. Flo pushes the door open and marches inside, and she's already berating Hopper before Eleven shuffles in after her and shuts the door silently.

Hopper's eyes meets hers as soon as she steps into the room, and they narrow in the way they do when he's figured out something in a case he's working on when he takes her in. “Who's working right now?” he interrupts Flo, head snapping towards the older woman as he tosses the apple in his hand.

“Your crack team,” Flo says irritably, and Eleven can't help her small smile. “Don't think them being disrespectful will excuse you for being disrespectful. Get your feet off the papers, how do you expect me to file anything with mud all over them?”

“They're all working overtime, no extra pay,” Hopper says gruffly, lifting his legs off the desk with a creak of his chair and pointing at Flo with the hand not holding the apple. “They're gonna think that they can get away with not doing it when I'm not here, but you keep them busy with calls.”

“You want me to go out and start committing crimes to give them something to do, too?” Flo says, lifting a form that had been beneath Hopper's boot and dabbing at it with a tissue delicately.

“Find whatever bullshit you dig up for me when you think I need some exercise,” Hopper says flippantly, looking over his desk with furrowed brows. It looks less like a mountain than a landslide to Eleven, but she supposes that has more to do with Hopper's organizational skills than anything.

“Don't you be saying such things in front of your little girl,” Flo snaps, swatting his feet when he tries to prop them against the edge of the desk. “You should have been the one sitting those detentions, not her.”

“She comes home with much better ones than I can think of,” Hopper says, sorting through the slush of paper on his desk with the hand not holding the apple he still hasn't touched. “What was the one you came out with last week when I wouldn't let your friends drive you home from A.V. Club, kid?”

“You told me not to say it,” Eleven points out, watching him dig his thumbnail into the skin of the apple.

Flo snorts, but she frowns deeply at Hopper when he looks up at her incredulously. “Eat your apple, finish your reports,” she snaps. “It will be a miracle if you get out of here before midnight.” She turns around and smiles at Eleven, eyes softening over the horned reading glasses balanced low on her nose. “Good luck, sweetheart,” she says, and pulls her into a soft hug again before marching out of the office without another word.

Eleven slouches over to the chair in front of Hopper's desk and throws herself into it. Hopper raises his eyebrows at her when she looks up and tosses her the apple. “Here you go, kid, a healthy snack,” he rumbles. “Don't say I never feed you.”

Eleven makes a face, turning the apple over in her hands. “You mangled it.”

“You too good to eat handled food now?” Hopper says, propping his feet up on the desk again and leaning back in his chair.

“Are you?” Eleven shoots back, and tosses him the apple.

He catches it one-handed and grins at her. “You hungry?” he asks, reaching into his chest pocket to pull out his case of cigarettes. “That's the best part of road trips, eating all the greasy food. Getting fat.”

“That's what you said last time,” Eleven says, watching him slide a cigarette out of the box and stick it between his grinning lips. “I don't see the difference between road food and your cooking.” She holds out her hand.

Hopper raises his eyebrows incredulously, dropping his feet to the floor with a loud thump as he leans forward in his chair. “I don't fucking think so. You think I'm going to just start giving you smokes now? I'm going to get enough hell about the fact that you're still smoking.”

“I won't smoke the whole time I'm there if you give me one now,” Eleven wheedles, stretching out her hand expectantly towards him.

He raises his eyebrows, hand pausing on its way to his mouth. “The whole two days?”

“The whole meeting,” Eleven amends, and raises her eyebrows.

“What, were you planning on blowing smoke in his fucking face?” Hopper says, leaning back in his hair and eyeing her suspiciously as he lights his cigarette. “No, kid, I'm not giving you a goddamn cigarette. Believe it or not I would like to stay your father for the forseeable future.”

“You are,” Eleven frowns, impatient. They haven't even technically started their trip, but just thinking about facing the next few days makes her itch for a cigarette despite the one she'd finished only fifteen minutes ago. Hopper's whole plan, living a high schooler's life and willingly walking into an official office of the very government chasing her every few months like she's not expecting a bag over her head and a needle in her arm every time she leaves Hopper's sight, feels like the opposite of everything she'd been taught about hiding, but she has to admit that living Jane Hopper's life seems to, by some miracle, be overall less terrifying than the streets, if only for the time between probation and high school principal scrutiny with Max. She closes her eyes and thinks of Max, now, her sweet blush spreading across her expressive face as she looks at Eleven shyly, the warmth she radiates when Eleven is wrapped in her arms, and the memory of the safety her girlfriend brings with everything she does lets her take a deep breath and open her eyes again. Hopper is watching her carefully when she meets his eyes, but he drops them immediately to start rifling through the pile of papers on his desk like he'd been doing it the whole time. She rolls her eyes, but slouches back in her chair and picks at Kali's handkerchief around her wrist, allowing herself an amused twitch of her lips as several papers float off the desk with his movements.

"You got homework?" he asks her pointedly, raising his eyebrows as he shuffles a pile of papers between his hands.

"Not as much as you," she grins.

He glares at her, and she snickers behind one fist. "I don't have school tomorrow," she points out.

"No, but you're not exactly on vacation," he says, shoving a stack of papers into the typewriter beside his desk. "You get make-up work for missing tomorrow?"

She makes a face. "Yes."

"Better get started, then," he says, rolling her chair to face the typewriter with his cigarette burning dangerously close to the haphazard stack of papers in his hand. "Imagine how happy your probation officer is going to be when he hears you being proactive about your homework."

"He's never happy," Eleven mutters, and her stomach twists anxiously at the reminder of her impending meeting. She picks at the knot on the handkerchief and bites her lip hard when she feels it unfurl a bit.

Hopper looks over his shoulder at her, and his face softens a bit. "If you're meeting with your friends on Saturday you'd better get that homework behind you," he says, and she brightens so quickly she feels the lamp on his desk spark. She reaches down for her backpack immediately, and she can't even be annoyed at his chuckle, although she does meet his eyes as she nudges his pile of papers aside pointedly to make room for her school books.

They work in silence, and Eleven is so absorbed in her biology textbook that the rumble of her own stomach surprises her. Hopper hits a key on the typewriter and it dings, and she looks up to see him stand, pulling papers out of the typewriter and adding it to the impressive stack of finished forms next to the machine. "Should have taken the apple," he grins, and she rolls her eyes at him. "Come on, kid, I'd say that's enough homework for the both of us tonight. Let's hit the road, we've got a long drive."

Eleven clicks the lid onto her highlighter and stands, too, surprised to see the sun setting through the window behind Hopper. "Did you get enough done?" she asks, shouldering her backpack and tilting her head to take in the papers on his desk. He's made impressive progress, or at least it looks like he has now that he's stacked the papers into separate piles instead of leaving them strewn across the surface, but he still has more to get through, and she feels a guilty twist in her stomach at the thought of him neglecting his work to protect her in Chicago.

"That's the beauty of this parenting thing," he says conspriatorally, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair and walking around the desk towards her. "The only thing that trumps Flo's fury at unfinished paperwork is her fury at you not being fed." He ruffles her hair as he passes, or he tries to through the gel, and he returns her frown as she pats her hairdo back down with a grimace of his own as he shakes his hand theatrically. "Jesus, kid, you think you have enough of that crap in there?"

"Not any more," Eleven mutters, trying to check her hair in the reflection of the window on the door. Callahan looks up and meets her eyes through the glass, and she freezes, fingers creating grooves in the sides of her hair as the reality of her upcoming weekend closes around her like the walls of the punishment closet in the lab.

Hopper glances back at her, and the anger which clouds his face doesn't help her panic, even though the rational part of her brain not frozen like a trapped animal knows it's not directed at her. "Your hair's fine, kid," he rumbles, and turns around to throw open the office door, barking Callahan's name before he's even through the doorway. She can hear them arguing as she shakily lowers her hands back to her sides, and she takes his moment of distraction to close her eyes and imagine smiling, sky-blue eyes half-hidden behind lashes such pale red Eleven can barely see them when she's not inches away from her lips.

She takes a deep breath, and walks out of the safety of the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time is Max again, hopefully soon if I can still use the chapter that was supposed to be this chapter. Thanks for 20 chapters anybody who's still here!!!<3


	21. Chapter 21

Despite her being alive for seventeen years, five of which spent with a group of the smartest, nerdiest science geeks she'd ever encountered, Max has never truly understood how the heavy drag of the passage of time affects her as she does now waiting for Jane to return from Chicago. She leans forward slightly, letting her long hair drape over her face as she turns her head to subtly check the clock on the wall of the Wheeler's basement for what must be the hundredth time since she'd sat down at the gaming table, but the slight rush of hope in her chest where the heart Jane had taken with her used to be sinks painfully when she sees the minute hand has only moved three minutes since she'd last seen it. She settles back onto her folding chair, crossing her arms across her chest as she stares at the table unseeingly, not bothering to move a rogue strand of hair which has escaped the rest to tickle her wrinkled nose.

  
Technically, the time didn't matter; Jane had called her last night to say that Chief Hopper had predicted they would be back in Hawkins sometime after 8:00 that night and he would drop her off at Mike's on his way home, but it had only been an estimation and she didn't have a concrete time to expect Jane by. Every ticking second feels like an hour as she keeps all of her senses tuned towards waiting for that soft knock. She can't bear to see misery and anxiety pinching Jane's beautiful features at any time, but watching her walk towards the very thing causing her pain and knowing she won't have anyone to comfort her except adult authority figures who think they know better than she does for two long, lonely days makes the ache which had started as she watched Jane walk towards the police secretary's car grow like the late-November chill slowly seeping through her clothes and into her skin. She can't fix Jane's situation for her, despite how desperately she wants to, but she can at least usually be there for her while her girlfriend deals with it. Her foot takes up a twitch as fast as she wishes the hands on the clock would move as she stares down at the colourful cards fanned out across the table in front of her without seeing them.

“Max?” Lucas nudges her shoulder with his own, and she jumps so high she hits her knees on the underside of the table. “Pick up two.”

“Huh?” She looks around at the mischievous faces smirking back at her, and then down at her cards, which have scattered over the table at her jump. “Oh. Right.” She sweeps her cards towards her with one hand and pulls two cards off of the Uno deck with the other carelessly, falling back into her chair so hard it rocks back onto two legs for a moment. She holds her cards in front of her face and shuffles through them randomly until she feels her friends's eyes leave her, her foot taking up its nervous tapping without her notice, and she uses the cover of her hand to glance over at the clock subtly again, jaw clenching as she sees it barely changed. She catches Will's eye by accident when she puts her cards back down onto the table with a sigh, and from his knowing smile she starts to doubt how subtle she's really being.

Her whole body tenses when she hears the soft knock echo from the basement staircase. “I got it,” she says immediately, pushing her chair back from the gaming table with a great screech against the concrete floor and spinning around in a whirlwind of red hair before her friends can react.

“But it's your turn,” Dustin calls as she sprints for the staircase.

“Let her go,” Lucas says, amusement in his voice, and although she doesn't spare him a glance as she starts bounding up the stairs three at a time she feverishly thanks her best friend silently.

She flings open her door, the cold seeped into her skin starting to steam with the heat of Jane's constellations even just from anticipation, and Jane is there, beaming in every sense of the word as she stands so close she must have been practically pressed against the closed door. She's so impossibly beautiful Max takes a moment too long to notice Chief Hopper looming behind her, arms crossed against his barrelled chest and he stares down his nose at them in the shadows of both Jane's and the basement's lights.

“Don't look so happy to see me,” he says.

Max works hard to not let her face fall. “Uh, hello, sir,” she says. Jane snickers, and Max glances at her irresistibly, smiling suddenly not such a difficult thing to do.

Chief Hopper rolls his eyes. “It's just the six of you in there, including her?” he asks, and Max nods, reaching out to take Jane's hand in her own and trying not to blush with the warmth which rushes through her body from the small spot they touch. “What's the plan tonight? You driving the other kids home?”

“We were planning on staying late, we're probably sleeping over,” Max says, and lets it hang in the air for a moment.

“Good for you,” Chief Hopper growls, and Max and Jane glance at each other regretfully. “You offered to drive her, so I'm going home. I'm staying up on the couch until she gets home, though, so no funny business. She stills gets home before curfew.”

“Yes, sir,” Max says, eyes dropping to their joined hands as she tries not to think about how close his amended curfew of 11:30 is already.

“If you're going to complain about driving you could let me get my license,” Jane says, tilting her breath-taking face up at him with a cross little frown.

“Sure, if you want to spend more time in government offices getting a paper trail,” Chief Hoppers says equally crossly, eyebrows furrowing, and Max squeezes her hand and pulls her closer without thinking when Jane's eyes widen at his words. Jane stumbles a bit at her panicked tug, but as soon as she looks up at Max her eyes soften, and her shoulders relax as she returns the squeeze.

She steps through the doorway to join Max on the top step, and Chief Hopper sighs. “My officer's shift changes at midnight, so I want you home by one a.m., you hear me?” he says, and Max's heart speeds up with shameless hope even as Jane rolls her eyes at Chief Hopper. “There'll be fresh eyes on the road, so no staying too long and speeding in the dark. One on the dot this time.”

“Yes sir, good night,” Max says breathlessly, and turns around to lead Jane down the stairs before he changes his mind.

She hears Jane laugh behind her as she leads the way down the stairs, that low, throaty sound which always resonates in her belly like a rippling wave of heat. She turns around as soon as she reaches the bottom of the stairs to reach for Jane's other hand, and the smile on her girlfriend's face, so full of contentment as soft as a California sunset, makes her unable to think of anything beyond pulling Jane gently down from the last step and kissing her.

The world comes back into her Jane-fogged senses all at once when the other girl pulls back with a little sigh and she hears the boys sniggering behind them. She pulls Jane against her body with one possessive arm and flips them off around her girlfriend's back, still too fuzzy from Jane's lips to come up with a scathing retort, and her newly-returned heart throws itself against her ribcage hopelessly when Jane tucks herself into her body and buries her face in her neck.

"Thanks for coming down and sharing that with the rest of us," Lucas grins, and Max blushes hot and tries to remember how to scowl as her friends laugh. "Welcome home, Jane. Max, we playing or what?"

"Hop was upstairs," Jane explains, rolling her forehead on Max's shoulder to face their friends, and Max feels her smile through her own thin flannel when the boys laugh again. "What are you playing?"

"Uno," Mike says as Max starts to lead Jane towards the table reluctantly with the arm around her waist. "We wanted to hold off on D&D until you have enough time to join."

"Should we start the round over?" Dustin says with a pensive frown, looking at the group around the table. "She can't jump in mid-game."

"The game that you're losing?" Lucas retorts. "Real convenient."

"Have you played before?" Max asks Jane before Dustin can snap back, dragging another folding chair over to sit beside hers. Jane shakes her head, sliding into the chair gracefully, and Max plunks herself down in her own seat and pulls Jane's chair right against hers with a hand around the metal leg. "All right, you're with me. Then you can learn and see if you like it enough to play next time, okay?"

Jane gives her a blinding smile, and Max flubs the cards she's just picked back up under the power of it. "Still your turn, Max," Lucas says with a smirk in his voice after a long moment, and Max kicks him under the table on reflex and focuses all of her nervous energy on sorting through her cards, shaking her head at how quickly time has lost its meaning after her acute awareness of it only a new minutes ago.

Jane leans her pointed little chin on Max's shoulder to peer over at the cards, and Max swallows around her helpless smile. "So we have to either put down a card that matches the color, or the number on that card," she explains, shuffling through her cards with her thumb as Jane watches with wide, interested eyes. "The goal is to get rid of our cards the fastest, so we use these cards to make our opponents pick up more cards. For example -" She throws down her card and smirks around at the table. "Dustin, pick up two."

"Son of a bitch," Dustin complains, and Max feels Jane's snicker vibrate through her body from her spot on the redhead's shoulder as she joins in with the boys's laughter.

She narrates what she's doing for the rest of the game quietly to Jane, using the excuse to lean into the other girl and breathe her into her greedy, deprived lungs as they play, and although they lose badly Jane is laughing so hard her cheeks glow pink beneath her make-up, which Max thinks, dizzily, is much better than winning.

Jane leans her cheek on Max's shoulder and yawns softly as Mike leans forward to scoop the pile of cards towards him to shuffle. "You sleepy?" Max smiles down at her, wrapping an arm around the back of her chair.

"No," Jane says quickly, and Max's snort ruffles her gelled hair. Jane shifts under her arm to tilt her face upwards and grimace apologetically, and Max feels her eyes glaze over as she burns up in her proximity. "It was a long road trip."

"Yeah, that's a lot of driving in just a few days," Max says, stroking her thumb over the soft leather of her jacket sleeve reverently. "And I bet Chief Hopper was a delight for every mile." Jane grins at her, and Max is powerless to do anything except let her dazed eyes slide to those pink, mesmerizing lips.

"We can watch a movie instead," Will says sweetly, and Max blinks away white spots from her vision when Jane turns her tractor-beam eyes towards him instead.

"Yeah, you still have the rest of the Star Wars trilogy to get through," Dustin says excitedly around the Three Musketeers bar he's shoving into his mouth.

"We should save that for a night we can marathon it," Mike says. "What about Back to the Future? We haven't watched that one in forever."

"Can we watch something we haven't seen a hundred times?" Lucas complains. "We got all those movies from Blockbuster we never watched."

"But we're showing them to Jane," Will points out as the boys rise from the table to migrate towards the television. "She hasn't seen most of our favorite movies, and we talk about them all the time."

"I'll watch anything," Jane says softly, leaning into Max's side and tucking her face against the other girl's shoulder.

"Will is right," Mike says loudly from in front of the television. The party, aside from Jane who keeps her face buried in Max's flannel, turns to look at him, and even his freckles blush. "I mean -" He glances at Will and then away just as quickly, making aggressive eye contact with Dustin, who raises his eyebrows. "We should do what he said. I mean, what we agreed."

"Did we agree on it?" Dustin frowns, while Mike glances at Max and scowls at her smirk.

"It doesn't matter," Mike says impatiently. "He's the only one who thinks about everyone, not just what he wants." He smiles at Will, whole body turning towards him like he can't help it, and it's not until Max clears her throat dramatically that his long limbs jerk and he looks away like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't be. Dustin and Lucas exchanged bewildered glances, but Mike ignores them to collapse onto the floor in front of the television and sort through the movies stacked on the shelf beneath it. "We're watching Back to the Future," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Max looks down to waggle her eyebrows at Jane, who snickers at her and snuggles closer. Like she had told Mike she would, Max had informed Jane about their conversation and his feelings for Will, and Jane has been watching the two boys impatiently all week for any sign of acknowledgement of their feelings for each other. So far it seems that Mike hasn't voiced his thoughts to anyone besides Max, and despite his smug observance of the girls's feelings for each other Will doesn't seem to have noticed a difference in Mike's attentions, which Max intends to mock him about relentlessly once they finally start dating. She glances up at Will, now, expecting to see him blushing or looking pleased with Mike's compliment, but he's looking at Mike with wide eyes, paused mid-step with the Uno game box in his hands. His eyes drop to meet hers after a few beats, and he smiles at her concerned expression, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He looks down and starts to walk around the table, but Max reaches out once he's close enough that she won't have to move away from Jane and grabs his sweater with her free hand.

"You okay?" she says quietly.

He gives her that soulless smile again. "Yeah," he says, and moves to walk away.

Max tightens her grip on his sweater, concern blooming cold and sobering in her chest now. "Will."

"I'm -" He glances over at Mike and then looks back at her, eyebrows furrowed as he struggles for words. “It's not a big deal.” When she only raises her eyebrows at him, he sighs and places the game box onto the table, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “Does – Does Mike treat you guys any different since you came out?”

Max feels Jane's chin dig into her skin as she peeks up from her shoulder, and she tries to keep her face neutral. “Different how?”

“Like -” He sighs and moves his hands inside the pocket of his hoodie, making the material tent out at odd angles as he avoids their eyes. The heel of his socked foot bounces off the toe of the other, and Max is reminded, with a twist of worry in her chest, of his anxiety before their conversation in her bedroom. “Like more polite,” he says quietly.

That makes Max raise her eyebrows. “Mike has never been polite to me in his life.”

The ghost of his real smile pulls at his lips, but he shakes his head. “No, like – Like Mike's always been the one who treats me like normal, no matter what I'm freaking out about or what he heard someone call me, and now he's just...” He gestures helplessly inside the pocket of his hoodie. “Being polite.”

Max glances down at Jane, but she can only see the glossy side of her gelled hair, which is probably a good thing since looking at Jane is usually not conducive to helping her think. “Bad polite?” she says carefully.

“I don't know,” Will says quietly. He looks down at his socked feet, and Max can't see his eyes. “He doesn't hug me or touch me casually any more, even though the other guys still do. And he makes weird statements all the time now singling me out, when he's always known before that I don't like that. Sometimes -” His mouth shakes, not with tears but with deep, unspoken anxiety - “Sometimes I catch him... Staring at me.”

The icy concern in Max's chest is replaced with white-hot rage. Oh, Mike was going to _burn_ for this. “That not what he means,” she blurts out without thinking.

Jane wraps both of her arms around one of Max's, and the shorter girl is dragged into her gravitational pull and breathes gratefully. “Mike cares about all of us,” Jane says softly to Will, and his face softens a bit as he looks over at her, although that may have less to do with her words and more with it being impossible to look at her any other way. “He wouldn't want to make you feel like that.”

“I know,” Will says, but he looks back down at his feet again. “He really isn't being weird with you guys?”

“Mike is just weird period,” Max says, and she's grateful to see a real grin on his face as he turns to give her his pantomime of a punch in the shoulder. “But due to a lapse in judgment in our youth he's also our friend, and I know that he cares about you too much to be freaked out by your sexuality.”

“You should talk to him,” Jane adds earnestly.

"Yeah," Will smiles. "I guess I just wasn't sure I wanted to hear what he was going to say." Max reaches out with the arm Jane isn't attached to and slips her hand into his pocket to wrap around his fingers, feeling his words like a punch to her chest. He lets her wrap her hand around his, turning his big, worried eyes to meet hers. "I'll talk to him," he says, and Max tries to smile reassuringly. "But don't say anything to him, okay? I don't want to make this into a big deal."

Max hesitates, glancing down at the bulge of their hands in his hoodie pocket; she'd been planning on making Mike's life miserable enough that he would have to explain himself to Will, since Mike has also forbidden her from saying anything about their conversation so she can't even reassure Will properly. "Max," Jane says softly, curling her upper body around the arm she's cuddling and balancing her chin on Max's shoulder.

Max rolls her eyes, mostly for show as her muscles melt helplessly under Jane's constellations of burning suns. "Fine. But if he's a dick to you about it my offer to show you how to throw a punch still stands, all right?"

Will grins at her. "He's not a dick," he says, and snickers when she raises a disbelieving eyebrow at him. "Thanks, you guys," he adds softly, and gives her fingers a last, affectionate squeeze before pulling away to pick the game box back up from the table and head towards the other boys arguing across the room.

Max turns to watch him go, hiding her scowl behind her long hair. "How has Mike managed to fuck this up before it's even started?"

Jane snorts a laugh, and Max can't help her adoring smile as she turns back to watch her girlfriend nuzzle the collar of her flannel. Jane turns her face upwards to meet her eyes, dizzyingly close, and Max feels her gravitational pull suck every thought from her overheated mind. "You're a good friend," Jane smiles.

"Hmm." Max's eyes drop to her lips, so close her vision blurs, although that might be from the haze of Jane's overwhelming heat. "Better than they deserve."

Jane grins, and Max feels like she's watching her lips move in slow motion. She lets herself be dragged down by Jane's gravity and kisses her, soft and reverent, and she keeps her eyes closed and lips parted when Jane pulls back with a sigh and readjusts herself on her chair so that she's facing Max with both arms still wrapped possessively around the shorter girl's.

"I missed you," Jane says quietly, and kisses her lightly.

Max smiles, unable to care about how wide and foolish it is as Jane leans their foreheads together. "I missed you too," she whispers, and tilts her head to press their lips together again. "You have no idea how much this place sucks without you."

Jane smiles and kisses her slowly. Bright, breath-taking galaxies, now familiar since she's started dating Jane but no less stunning, burst behind her eyelids at the touch of her girlfriend's lips, and she's so gratefully lost in them that she can only sit and breathe when Jane breaks the kiss gently, mesmerized into stillness. "I know," Jane says quietly, sliding her arms over Max's sleeve to rest her hands on the other girl's knee.

That cuts through Max's clouded mind, and she weaves their fingers together over her lap. "You didn't have a great week-end either, huh?" she says, and her heart squeezes as tightly as her hand does Jane's when the punk girl shakes her head. She glances behind her and stands as a plan forms in her mind, keeping their hands intertwined when Jane rises without question behind her. The boys are still in front of the television, enraptured in their argument as Dustin gestures emphatically, and she turns to smile at Jane over her shoulder, winking conspiratorially. "Come here," she says, and leads the way over to the couch behind their oblivious friends.

She collapses backwards onto the couch without letting go of Jane's hand, reaching her other arm up greedily before her girlfriend even has a chance to react. "This is prime real estate, we have to claim it while they're distracted," she says, and Jane snickers and allows herself to be dragged down onto the couch. She adjusts her long legs over Max's lap and leans her shoulder against the back of the couch, smiling devastatingly sweetly as their joined hands rest in the gap between her knees, and Max has to take a moment to battle the fire blazing across every inch of her Jane's legs were casually strewn across before she can trust herself to speak.

"I'm glad you're back," she says quietly, playing with Jane's soft fingers between hers and trying to ignore the shock of electric heat which lights up her body whenever her hands brush the seam of Jane's trousers.

"Me too," Jane says. Her wide, endless eyes flit over Max's face as if drinking her in, and Max thinks, stupidly, that she's finally falling into them as they get closer and closer until Jane kisses her and her own eyes drift closed.

She sighs shakily, trying to focus on the very important conversation her girlfriend is trying to have through every cell in her body burning in Jane's Suns gloriously. "What usually happens at a probation meeting?" she asks, only lifting her lashes slightly as she looks back at her girlfriend so as not to get the full effect of her beauty. "I don't really know what it's for."

Jane sighs, looking down at their joined hands for a long moment before her delicate features sharpen with resolution. She reaches for Max's other hand and wriggles her bum backwards on the couch a bit, pulling the helpless redhead forward with her momentum. Gently, she leads Max downwards until they're both lying along the length of the couch, feet tangling near the end as their bodies line up so closely their joined hands get caught between their stomachs. Max stares, and stares some more, a deafening rushing in her ears as Jane smiles at her peacefully, apparently content while Max burns alive beside her.

"It's a stupid process," Jane says quietly, gazing into Max's eyes unblinkingly.

Max swallows, her throat suddenly parched as all of the moisture in her body pools as molten lava in the pit of her stomach. She focuses solely on Jane's big, starlight eyes, and although it doesn't help with the overwhelming heat Jane's galaxies are mesmerizing enough to distract her from the feeling of their legs sliding together. "Does your probation officer treat you like the principal and teachers do?" she says quietly.

Jane bites her lower lip and looks down their bodies to their joined hands, face thoughtful. "Yes. He thinks I'm a trouble-maker, and doesn't listen to me when I explain. I always feel like the conversation would go the same whether or not I was in the room."

Max snorts, and Jane's distractingly-kissable lips quirk up on one side into her little half-smile. "I usually just let him talk so I get out faster," she mumbles, thick mascaraed eyelashes fluttering dreamily as she watches Max caress her fingers. "He gives me goals to reach for next meeting."

"What goals, avoid more vengeful bullies with knives than last time?" Max says under her breath, and her heart slams full-force against her ribs when Jane snickers quietly.

"Basically," she smiles, eyes still focused on their joined hands. "No fighting. No smoking or drugs. A clean school record until next meeting. He wasn't happy when I said I hadn't applied to any colleges." She makes a face.

Max is grateful Jane is still focused on their hands and doesn't see her face fall before she catches herself. "What did he have to say about that?" she says carefully.

"Same as Hop," Jane says, and Max's stomach twists agonizingly at the frustration in her voice. "That I'm not trying. That I'm not thinking about my future."

Max is starting to get dizzy from her rollercoaster of emotions as fury spikes sudden and overwhelming through the molten heat at Jane's nearness. "Did you tell him you're making sure you even have a freaking future?" she snaps before she realizes she should keep the anger out of her voice.

But Jane smiles, wiggling her shoulders closer so that she's curled around their hands between their stomachs. "He wouldn't listen. Hop does, but he just gets mad at Kali."

"Kali?" Max says, running her thumb soothingly over Jane's knuckles as she furrows her eyebrows with confusion.

"He thinks Kali brainwashed me," she says, a frown pulling at her lips as she speaks. Max slides their fingers together and squeezes, and a bit of the worried tension in her stomach lifts when Jane's face softens again. "He uses that word, brainwashed. He thinks she has no future, and she made me believe that I can't have one, either. They don't know each other and they fight over me."

"Jesus Christ," Max mutters. She can't help but slide her hands around both of Jane's, tugging her closer protectively even though their bodies are already lined up intimately. "Have any of these grown-ups asked _you_ what you want?"

Jane looks up suddenly and meets her eyes, the smile which spreads across her face as bright as the sun breaking through the clouds. Max blinks, blinded, mouth parting on reflex as she feels the pressure of Jane's forehead against hers. "No one has," she says softly.

Max swallows like a parched traveler at an oasis. "What do you want?"

She sees Jane bite her lower lip, and it takes up her whole world only partially because she's so close their noses brush. "I want something I did, something I decided," Jane says thoughtfully. "Something that's mine."

_I'm yours_ , Max thinks, but thankfully she manages not to say it out loud. "Is that going back to Kali?" she says instead.

Jane shrugs, the movement of her shoulder against the couch cushion making her head slide just enough for a strand of gelled hair to stick straight up. "It's safest," she says. "But I can't tell the parole officer that." She grimaces.

Despite herself, Max smiles at her adorable expression. "Well, your parole officer can go fuck himself," she says, and her belly fills irresistibly with that rippling heat again when Jane laughs huskily. "But, hey, you did your time for now, so you don't have to go back there for awhile, right?"

Jane's only answer is a soft smile and a softer kiss, the delicious heat of which melts everything inside of her down to the molten lava pooling in her belly so devastatingly that Jane has to be the one to punch Dustin and Lucas when the boys sit on their legs to get their attention. She's laughing, though, cheeks rosy as the boys jump off of them with much less retaliation than they would have if Max were the one swatting them off, and when she curls back into Max's embrace once the whole party piles obnoxiously onto the couch to finally watch the movie, Max could swear she sees the same molten heat burning in the universes behind Jane's eyes as Max feels inside of her.

Max pulls her close, breathes her in deeply, and repeats to herself silently, _You don't have to go back for awhile_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely can't tell if this is a happy chapter or not??? Either come for me with gay keysmashing or pitchforks in the comments I need motivation to get the next chapter out before I go away without a computer  
> I love and appreciate anyone still reading this!!!<3


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD anybody still here??? Sorry sorry school is kicking my ass so updates are going to be less frequent until that's done but I'm still going to be writing when I can, I missed this story so much  
> Warning for making out I guess, slightly more suggestive than chapter 14 possibly so just a heads up. Related I can't find guidelines for what sexual stuff fits under the ratings, what are you guys expecting from this story? Let me know your comfort levels, there's never going to be like deets because I don't want to raise the rating this far in but I've gotten a lot of comments asking if they're going to bang (pro tip: they are) so I don't know how into it I can get asklghsjald;fg

Swallowing a smile, Max points to the gear shift. “Great, yeah. Now put it into first gear.”

Eyebrows furrowed as seriously as if she's defusing a pipe bomb, Jane reaches for the gear shift and then jumps when the car revs fruitlessly beneath them.

Max's heart takes up its lovesick battle with her ribcage and she fights desperately to keep the amusement off her face when Jane looks at her with wide, starlight eyes. “Um. Keep the clutch pedal pressed while you change gears. Foot and hand at the same time.”

“Same time?” Jane says curiously, and Max nods. “But they're doing different things. When do I stop pressing the pedal?”

Max considers this, trying with great difficulty to not watch the way the bright winter sun plays off her girlfriend's sharp cheekbones through the muted windshield. “How about you keep doing something until I tell you to stop?”

Jane nods once seriously, apparently satisfied, and settles back into the driver's seat to peer down at her foot on the pedal as if to check that it's still there. Although she's still not eager to give the government hunting her more ways to find her, especially with photo identification, Jane has been fascinated by the actual act of driving since she'd escaped the lab and seen a car for the first time, but between Mick, the punk gang's protector, banning everyone else from touching their getaway car, and Chief Hopper's refusal to let Jane do anything except homework and detentions, she'd had no one to walk her through how to operate a vehicle just for the sake of learning. Her eyes had been so wide and dark and hopeful Max would have given her anything she'd asked for in that moment, but understanding how to drive, just having the knowledge and ability whether it was used or not, was a powerful freedom Max would want everyone to have, especially the brilliant, curious girl who had been deprived of any kind of independence for most of her life. As she watches both limbs on the right side of Jane's body bend carefully, pressing and pulling respectively as she makes sure the pedal and clutch move at exactly the same speed, Max can't think of anything else she'd rather be doing than this. “That's perfect, Jane,” she says, and the car hums and rolls forward a bit as if in agreement.

Jane's victorious smile drops at the movement from the car. “Yeah, it's a good idea to have your foot on the break pedal when you're not in park,” Max says, trying to catch Jane's eye to give her a reassuring grin. “We're not on a hill, or anything, so it's not a huge deal. Just do it now so it stops. Cool. How does that feel?”

Jane wiggles her backside a bit in her seat, as if testing how she feels to answer Max's question. “Precarious,” she says slowly, furrowing her eyebrows as if she's still considering whether she's using the right word even as her frowning, kissable lips shape around each syllable carefully.

Max grins, swallowing around her heart which is now trying to escape to Jane through her throat. "Yeah, but that's the fun part of driving," she says, wrapping her arm around the back of Jane's headrest. "That swoop in your stomach right before the rush of speed. Right on the edge. You feel that?"

The look in Jane's starlit eyes as she flashes Max her half-smile and nods makes Max dizzily grateful she's not the one behind the wheel. "Great," Max says, and clears her throat. "Now check nothing's in front of you, and ease your foot off the break and onto the gas. Press the gas pedal down slowly to feel how fast it's going to accelerate."

Jane's warm gaze stays on her face for a beat too long before she turns back towards the road and bites her abused lower lip with determination. Nothing happens for a long moment, the only thing accelerating being Max's heart as she stares at Jane hunch over the steering wheel to peer out the windshield, but Max hears the crunch of snow beneath tires and looks out the window in surprise to see that they're inching forward along the country road. She feels the hum of the engine beneath her seat grow almost inperceptably as they roll forward, and her pathetic heart swells along with it as she realizes what her girlfriend is doing.

"You know," she says lightly, "the first time I got to drive, I pressed the pedal to the floor and took off at the speed of light."

Jane turns to her with wide eyes, which would have been a problem if they weren't driving slower than if they'd been walking. "To the floor?" she says, and glances down at her feet uncertainly.

"Yeah," Max laughs. "My dad almost had a heart attack. He was able to laugh about it once we'd survived, but he really started rethinking his decision to let a middle-schooler who nicknamed herself 'Zoomer' try driving his car." Jane snickers, and Max's toes curl in her winter boots. "So his advice to ease into the gas might be circumstantial. You can increase the pressure of your foot a bit faster, if you want."

Jane grins, sweet and devastating, and the car speeds up enough that Max would finally classify them to be driving. "Like that, Zoomer?" she says, and Max snorts a laugh.

"That's great, Jane the Powerful," she says, and Jane snickers and glances at her out of the corner of her eye before the car jerks a bit and she grips the wheel so tightly her knuckles turn white. "You've  just got to keep the pull of the car in your hands," Max says, sliding her arm around the seat and running her hand soothingly down her girlfriend's arm to hold her elbow in place. "You don't need to pull too hard the other way, just keep it straight. That's great, remember how that feels and keep adjusting as it moves."

"Ten and two," Jane recites, keeping her gaze steady on the road in front of them even as her hands relax visually on the steering wheel.

And Max looks at her and thinks,  _Oh, I'm in love with you._

It's not a conscious thought, almost as if it doesn't come from her own brain at all, but Max knows it's true as soon as she thinks it. She's glad she's not the one driving the car, as she suddenly feels as if she's slammed into a solid brick wall with her whole body, and she's not sure that she'll ever be able to move her frozen, shaking limbs again. She stares at Jane, watching the other girl's mouth move without hearing what she's saying over the deafening ringing in her ears, and she's not sure if it's her heart making another valiant attempt to escape to Jane through her throat again or the words she can't quite bear the thought of saying out loud despite her revelation suddenly blocking her airway, but she clamps her mouth shut and swallows aggressively regardless.

Jane's wide, endless eyes are on her, and she starts guiltily even though she hasn't looked away or possibly blinked in minutes. “Max?” Jane says, and the ringing in her ears stops as suddenly as it had started at the sound of her voice.

Max smiles weakly, resisting the urge to try to rub her ear as it itches with the echo. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Did you ask me a question? I kind of zoned out.”

“How do I pull over?” Jane asks, glancing between the road and Max from beneath her full black lashes. They've slowed down significantly in the time since Max's epiphany and subsequent blackout, and Max is amazed that her heart still flutters at the littlest detail of Jane being careful to reduce her speed while she's not watching the road even with her mind so clouded the edges of her vision blurs ominously.

Max clears her throat and shifts awkwardly. “Um. Right. Stopping should probably have been the first lesson.” Jane grins at her and bites her lower lip, and Max thinks again,  _I love you_ , before she shakes her head as if she can force the thought from her mind. “It's just a slight turn of the wheel. You know how you keep the car lined up straight with the road? You just have to line the car up with the curb, nice and slow. We'll tackle parallel parking another day, I want you to leave actually wanting to drive again and not blow up my car with your powers.”

Jane laughs, throaty and low, as she rolls to a perfect stop at the side of the road and pulls down the parking break without prompting. Max doesn't realize she's still holding her girlfriend's elbow until she moves her arm towards the handle, and she blushes so hot she's surprised the car windows don't steam up, although if Jane's countless suns don't heat up the glass nothing she'll ever do could hope to. “You were doing great, though,” she says, a new worry tightening her already-twisting stomach as she watches Jane unbuckle her seatbelt. “Did you want to stop because you were feeling -”

Jane pounces onto her lap and kisses her relentlessly. Max gives into her immediately, every part of her melting so dangerously the only reason her new revelation doesn't escape her wet, grateful mouth is the fact that Jane is thoroughly attached to it. With a gasp she reaches up to wrap her arms around the other girl, one shaking hand finding the back of Jane's neck while the other snakes around her waist to press their stomachs together. Jane cradles her cheeks with both hands and kisses her again and again, messy and greedy and so devastatingly hot Max feels her every muscle in her body liquefy willingly as she collapses back against her seat and puts all of her energy into moving her mouth with her girlfriend's. Jane shifts over her and slides down onto her legs, straddling her lap as she keeps up her dizzying barrage of kisses, and Max loses her head completely and arches up into her, the hand behind Jane's neck rising to glide over the back of her head and crush their lips together as Jane's beautiful galaxies burst behind her eyelids.

“Max,” Jane gasps into her mouth, and cards a hand through the thick red hair at her temple, the painful tug making stars burst behind her eyelids in a way which is not entirely unpleasant. Jane kisses her hard, and then drags her bottom lip over Max's and slides her tongue along the curve teasingly when Max's lips part at the sensation, and Max tightens the arm around her waist and digs her quivering fingers into soft leather. She crushes their chests together artlessly in her desperation to have Jane closer, whole body burning with need despite them being lined up intimately already, and she can only groan wordlessly and open her mouth when Jane licks her bottom lip and delves her tongue into Max's waiting mouth with a burning kiss.

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss, wet and messy and perfect as they move past teasing to heady indulgence, and Max is sure she's only sitting upright because of the rigid seat beneath her when Jane finally pulls away to catch her breath. Max tightens her arm around her girlfriend's waist, still incapable of opening her heavy eyelids but conscious enough to know she won't survive if Jane moves even an inch away from her, and she grins drunkenly when the flex of her fingers pushes the bottom hem of Jane's jacket upwards and she gets a dizzying flash of soft skin against her fingertips before Jane shifts to press breathless kisses down her neck. “God, Jane,” she whispers, and an embarrassing noise rumbles in her chest when Jane fastens her lips around the patch of skin she's kissing at the sound of her name.

Jane hums and slides her arms over Max's shoulders to wrap around the back of her headrest, continuing her lazy path along the curve of the redhead's neck and leaving devastating fire in the wake of her lips. “Beautiful,” she mumbles, and Max takes a shuddering breath as she feels Jane's voice vibrate through her whole body from where her lips are pressed against her skin. “Wonderful.”

“I know you are, but what about me?” Max teases, and her laugh is strangled in her chest by Jane's constellation of burning suns when Jane grins against her throat and nips her skin in retaliation. Her hips shift upwards thoughtlessly before she catches herself, and she slides her hands guiltily to rest on the dip of Jane's lower back and tries to swallow the sudden excess of saliva in her mouth. “I'm starting to see a trend with you asking me to show you something and then thwarting your own lesson, though,” she adds, mostly to distract Jane from her desperate movements.

Jane snickers into the curve where her neck meets her shoulder and rolls her lower body to get closer to Max's, and every last part of Max melts into molten lava and crashes wickedly in her belly as the perfect thighs she has definitely not been peeking at hungrily in those little shorts every gym class glide over the curve of her own hips. Her hips move again, a sudden jerk like they're trying to escape from Max's control altogether, and her head rolls back onto the seat uselessly. “I really do want to drive,” Jane says, surprisingly earnest considering she's shamelessly squirming in Max's lap to get closer. “But you're so pretty. And we're never alone unless I have an excuse.”

Max snorts, grinning up at the ceiling as her whole body burns up in Jane's blinding constellations. “Jane, you don't need an excuse to get me alone if you want it. You could have called me up this morning and said, 'Hey, Max, drive me out to the woods and make out with -'”

Jane lunges upwards to kiss her soundly, which is probably a good thing considering her mouth's tendency to run off without her brain, even more dangerous after her earlier realization. The thought makes her whole body slow, and she raises a shaky hand to cup Jane's cheek as she returns the eager kiss, stomach swooping as she can't resist reveling in the reality of every inch of Jane pressed willingly, enthusiastically, against every inch of her.  _Precarious_ , she thinks, and her clouded mind starts to consider how her brilliant girlfriend always manages to choose the most poignant word from her limited vocabulary, before Jane's tongue slides over hers again and everything evaporates except for the inescapable truth.

_I'm in love with you._

She kisses Jane back too hard, and in this moment it's enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Max: I think... I might... Possibly... Be falling in... L OVE... with Jane??? :o:o:o:o  
> Everyone reading this story: *Looks into the camera like they're in the office*  
> This chapter is dedicated to yuzu who likes surprise kisses and wants them to stop making out in public and is also generally the best, thank you for encouraging me and putting up with my incoherent messages whether they're drunken or not the elmax fandom is blessed to have you!!!<3


	23. Chapter 23

It really is unfair, Max muses vaguely from somewhere within her dangerously-clouded brain, how adorable Jane manages to look in the clunky science goggles designed to flatter no one.

"9 M sulphuric acid," Jane murmurs, hypnotizing eyes narrowed in concentration behind the comically-large goggles as she leans over their shared Bunsen burner. Their chemistry teacher had allowed them to choose their own lab partners for once, and Jane and Max are huddled over their now-bubbling beaker so close Max can feel the searing heat from Jane's bare forearm burning her willing skin, gloriously secluded from the rest of the class by their station at the back corner of the classroom and Jane's intimidating presence. Jane had glared down one of Lucas's basketball friends who had looked as if he had been about to approach Max as the class had milled around choosing stations and partners, and Max still hasn't quite recovered. "80 degrees Celsius," Jane continues, husky voice breaking through the heavy cobwebs in Max's brain.

"Hmmm." Max balances her chin on her hand, staring for an embarrassingly-long moment before she remembers she's supposed to be part of this experiment, too. Blushing furiously, she ducks down over their worksheet, blinking dizzily as she tries to remember which step they're on. The pencil trapped between her pointer and middle finger waggles back and forth wildly, picking up speed almost as suddenly as her pulse, and she shoves it between her teeth on instinct as she scans the paper, hoping to get a hold of herself but only giving herself a headache as it vibrates against the bone. "80 degrees Celsius," she repeats around the pencil, and her eyes catch on the words as she says them. She slips the pencil from between her lips and hunches over the worksheet to scribble the information onto the correct line, trying to concentrate on the paper in front of her and not the graceful lines of Jane's body she can see out of the corner of her eye.

“Now the water?” Jane says, leaning over their Bunsen burner to peer at the worksheet so close the frayed edge of her jean vest brushes against Max's shoulder blade and sends a flash of heat through the core of her down to her toes.

“Nah, now we hypothesize,” Max says, grinning at her girlfriend over her shoulder as she taps her pencil against the paper and hooks her feet around the legs of her stool to keep herself upright. “We have to wait for the thermometer to go back to room temperature before we measure anything else, anyway.”

Jane's ridiculous goggles slide down her nose a bit as she wrinkles it with confusion. “Hypo – the -size? Like hypothesis? But we already know what's supposed to happen.”

“Yeah, but we're supposed to  _hypothesize_  why what's going to happen is going to happen,” Max says, waggling her eyebrows. She lowers her voice comically on the word  _hypothesize_ , and she's grateful she had the foresight to attach herself to the stool with her ankles when Jane grins at her dazzlingly.

Jane leans her backside on the stool beside Max's, propping one foot up on the bar around the legs and bumping Max's knee with her own. She had switched to steel-toed combat boots as soon as the first dusting of snow had fallen, scuffed and what looks like a few sizes too big for her feet, and Max has found herself sweating at the sound of the heavy footfalls which announce her presence before she even sees her. “Isn't that what we're doing this to find out?” she says.

Max grins, only daring to look at Jane out of the corner of her eye as she taps the eraser of her pencil against her chin. “Just because you're smarter than all the teachers doesn't mean you have to point it out,” she says, and she pushes her bottom lip upwards with her pencil eraser to control her pathetically-enamoured smile when Jane snickers behind her fist. “This is actually the best part of the worksheet, because you can make up any shit you want and technically they have to give you points because you're guessing.”

Jane raises an eyebrow, distractingly-kissable lips quirking up on one side mischievously. “Anything?” she says, and tilts her head thoughtfully when Max nods. “Like  _hypothesizing_  we'll get full marks if we leave without finishing the worksheet because we already know what's going to happen?”

Max laughs. “Or  _hypothesizing_  that if they wanted us to do this in one period they should have coughed up more money for extra thermometers,” she says, head lolling back to stare up at the ceiling.

“Or  _hypothesizing_  that the teachers should just give us As on all our midterms and I can finally do something other than studying,” Jane says wistfully.

“Or  _hypothesizing_  that you're going to get As anyway so Chief Hopper should let you go out with me on Saturday,” Max grins, leaning her elbows on the table behind her as she allows her eyes to be pulled back to her girlfriend's face irresistibly.

Jane laughs, an unguarded burst of starlight, and Max is almost too blinded for a moment to notice the shy little duck of her head as she belatedly raises her fist to cover her mouth. “Hey, don't hide that smile on my account,” she says softly, raising her hand to pull Jane's away from her face before she remembers where they are and jerks it back like she'd touched a live wire. She rubs the back of her neck, trying to look as if she'd meant to do it all along and failing miserably, but Jane's pleased little smile as she settles fully onto the stool and runs her thumb over her chafed bottom lip makes it hard to be too embarrassed.

“I'm loud,” Jane whispers, smiling eyes shining from beneath her thick lashes in direct contrast to her words. “Papa trained me to lower my voice, but my laugh...” She trails off and grimaces apologetically.

All the molten heat in Max's body from Jane's proximity freezes solid. “He  _what_?” she hisses, bolting upright so suddenly the only reason she doesn't go tumbling from her stool is her feet still hooked around the metal legs. “He told you you were – One of your superpowers doesn't happen to be reanimation, does it, because I have a few things I'd like to tell  _him_  before I kill him again.”

She realizes once the words are out of her mouth that she probably shouldn't say them, both for Jane's comfort and because they're technically in public, but Jane only smiles softly and props her temple against her fist, pushing her huge goggles askew across her delicate features. “No,” she says softly, watching Max from beneath her lashes with warm eyes. “But I've always done it. I don't think about it. Until I forget.”

“Well, you never have to with me,” Max whispers, leaning forward and meeting Jane's eyes to let her see the truth in them. She wants more than anything to reach out and take her girlfriend's hand, but she settles for bumping their knees together, and Jane smiles so devastatingly as she bumps her back that her frozen insides crumble and molten heat begins seeping through her body again. “I happen to lo – think that your laugh is awesome, especially the few times I've heard it when you don't think to cover it.”

Jane grins, biting her lower lip as she flits her tractor-beam gaze over Max's flushed face. “I know,” she says softly, shrugging one shoulder at Max's encouraging smile. “You're funny, and I always forget around you. You make me feel safe.”

If molten lava had been flowing through her burning body before, the flash of heat at Jane's simple words melts her bones so suddenly she has a dangerous moment of almost slipping off the stool despite her secured ankles. “I -” She hopes no one else in the class is looking at them, because there's no way to reign in her shaky, helpless smile as she tries to run her sweaty hands through her thick hair before the painful tug at her temples reminds her that it's knotted in a messy bun on top of her head. “ _I_  do?”

“Yes,” Jane says, sounding amused, like the impossible declaration, which is making Max feel as if she might be able to defy all gravity except for Jane's and float off her seat if she didn't still have a death grip on her stool by her ankles, should have been obvious to her. “I haven't got to feel safe a lot. But you do, without trying.”

Max collapses bonelessly over the table, burying her heated face in her arms. “You can't say stuff like that when I can't kiss you,” she mumbles.

Jane snickers and bumps their knees together. Max feels the vibration as she shuffles their lab supplies quietly on the table, and she risks raising her head just enough to peek over her arm at her girlfriend in wonder. “I'm glad you know, no matter what, you're safe with me,” she whispers thickly.

Jane smiles at her, more radiant than the sun pouring through the wide classroom windows behind her. She tilts her head, breath-taking eyes sliding luxuriously slowly over Max's face before she nods a bit as if she's come to a decision. “Saturday?” she says.

Max grins, hopelessly, willingly caught in the tractor-beam of her gaze. “Yeah, but we can't tell the boys,” she says conspiratorially, tilting her head so that her burning cheek rests against her bicep but not fully prepared to leave the safety of her own arms yet. “They're not inviting themselves along like they always do.”

Jane laughs, turning her intoxicating gaze down to the lab supplies lined up neatly across the table in front of her, and Max's chest glows when she picks up the thermometer with both hands instead of covering her grin. “Where will we go without the boys?” she points out, balancing her elbows on the table as she examines the thermometer from beneath her lashes. “Hop won't let you come over unless he's there, even for studying.”

“Oh, we won't be studying,” Max mumbles before she thinks better of it, and she's grateful for the cool surface of the table beneath her cheek when it slides over her sweater irresistibly at Jane's answering snicker. “I'll figure something out, I'm not depending on Mike's basement as the only place to get you relatively alone.”

“Can I plan something?” Jane says softly. She pulls the beaker not balanced on the Bunsen burner towards her and examines the sweating ice cubes inside with serious curiosity.

“Sure,” Max says, watching her sink her little teeth into the permanent indent on her lower lip with glazed eyes. “Considering your last 'driving lesson' idea, I'm much obliged to follow along with any plan you may have.”

Jane's cheeks glow faintly beneath her make-up as she grins, and Max's stupid heart throws itself against her ribcage greedily. “I'll convince Hop,” she says with conviction, and pokes the ice with the end of the eyedropper. “The ice is melting.”

“That's because it's around you,” Max teases, and returns Jane's nudge with one of her own. “We should probably do some of this experiment before class ends, though,” she amends, sitting upright and trying to take in any of the words from the worksheet her glazed eyes are scanning through the deliriously-warm fog in her mind. “What were we doing again?”

“Hypothesizing,” Jane says, sliding her feet over the rung they were perched on and lifting her backside slightly off the seat to poke at the liquid over the Bunsen burner with her eyedropper.

Max laughs, picking up her pencil and twirling it between her sweaty fingers, “Oh, yeah. Well, I think we're out of time, unless Mrs. Parker will let us test the acid on slightly colder water than the other one instead of ice. We could do what me and Lucas used to do in middle school when they first started making us do hypotheses, and write down the same numbers we get with the results after we do the experiment.”

Jane laughs so hard she plops back onto the seat behind her, throaty and free and so loud a few students actually turn to look at them, and Max basks in it, willing to burn up in both Jane's constellations and her own smoldering frustration if it means that Jane gets to sit beside her, laughing and safe and loved beyond what she knows.

Jane smiles at her, bright and beautiful as she settles fully onto the stool and straightens her goggles on her little nose, and Max wonders if it's possible to fall in love with someone over and over again. “Chemistry,” she says, furrowing her brows solemnly even as her pink lips twitch rebelliously on one side.

“Chemistry,” Max agrees, mock-serious, but when Jane turns back to their beakers again Max finds herself taking a long moment before she looks away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to goldenelmax who is a bomb-ass writer who comments on my stuff for some reason and is generally a bomb-ass person, sorry I disappeared for 8 years after messaging you but I hope you like the fluff!!!  
> Sorry it's so short after so long but once I'm done exams we get a two-parter where we get to see what El's planning and I think you know what it iiiiiis


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying something new, I hope it's as much fun to read as it was to write!!! Part one of That Chapter (no not smut the other one aslghsjaldjk)

As if those devastatingly-warm tractor-beam eyes on her weren't enough, Jane chases every hazy thought from her mind by reaching across the parking break to wrap a strand of Max's hair around her pointer finger as easily as she wraps Max herself around her finger. “Hop and Mrs. Byers went to high school together, he knew her before I met Will,” she says to Mike, although her gaze doesn't stray from her hand in Max's hair.

“That's so weird,” Mike mutters from the backseat, and although Max doesn't dare move her eyes from the road for fear of getting so lost in those endless eyes, she hears the frown in his voice. “But I guess all the adults in town would have known each other at some point, if they grew up here. I can't imagine going for groceries in twenty years and having to be checked out by, like, Troy.”

Max snorts, trying not to lean her head into Jane's hypnotizing touch. “Mike, you've already got accepted into multiple out-of-state colleges,” she points out. “You're not going to be getting groceries in Hawkins twenty years from now. Plus I don't think Chief Hopper and Mrs. Byers had the kind of relationship in high school you and Troy have.”

Jane's snicker drowns out Mike's moan of disgust, as well as all the other noises around them in her suddenly-ringing ears when she can't resist glancing at her girlfriend out of the corner of her eye, and the car accelerates with a whine from the engine as Mike's voice brings her back to earth with a start. “I want to think about Chief Hopper's  _relationship_  with Will's mom about as much as I want to watch you two eye-fucking right now,” he mumbles, leaning back against the seat so heavily his lanky body bounces forward a bit.

“You're the one who invited yourself along,” Max retorts. True to their wistful planning in Chemistry class, Jane had convinced Chief Hopper to give her a few hours away from studying for their upcoming exam to spend blissfully alone with Max, and true to Max's warning about the boys, Mike had called her begging for a ride the same night and didn't see a problem when Max had explained why she would be too busy to ferry him around the city. The only reason she had let him into her car at all was the source of his desperation; he had finally, after much soul-searching and many meaningful glares and sucker-punches from Max, decided to tell Will about his feelings, and he wanted to do it before the Christmas holidays started and he had no hope of cornering Will without the party around them. She could deal with having a few of her precious moments alone with Jane stolen away if Mike and Will stopped making sad eyes at each other across the A.V. room. “I'm not picking you up, by the way,” she adds.

He shrugs, staring out the window beside him. “That's okay. I'll probably sleep over.”

Max bursts out laughing; Jane's fingers pause in Max's hair, body vibrating with her silent giggles as her body brushes Max's to twist around and face him. “You think it's going to go that well, do you?” Max grins.

“What? I – No!” His face flames so fiercely Max can see his freckles even through the shadows in her rear-view mirror as he realizes what he's said. “Jesus, you guys are – I just meant -” He deflates suddenly, meeting Max's eyes in the mirror. “Wait, does this mean I won't be able to do normal stuff like sleepovers with Will any more?”

Max shrugs the shoulder Jane isn't shuffling around to lean her head onto. “Welcome to our life,” she says, and Mike grins, although his eyes are still worried. “Mrs. Byers isn't Chief Hopper, so I doubt she's going to make me drive Will home at one in the morning during party sleepovers. Things are going to change a bit, but you're going to get to finally be with Will the way you really want to be, and that's better than any sleepover or whatever.”

Jane slides her fingers through Max's over her knee and squeezes, and Max has to work very hard to keep her gaze on Mike's suddenly-glazed ones in the mirror. “As long as you don't fuck it up,” she adds, slowly and clearly.

Mike rolls his eyes, breaking their staring contest to look out the window again. “I'm not going to fuck it up.”

“What are you going to say?” Jane asks, before Max opens her mouth to retort.

“Oh, I have this speech,” Mike says, ducking his head to begin sorting through his pockets. “I started writing it as part of a romance-able DND NPC, but I was thinking about Will while I was trying to make it poetic and stuff so I changed it to be personal to him.”

“You wrote it down?” Max says, amusement in her voice even as she tries to keep the softness off of her face, while Jane's perks up with interest on her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Mike mutters, patting down his coat as his frown deepens. “I wanted to make sure I got all my thoughts down and coherent so that he knows exactly how I – Where the hell is it?” he adds, seemingly to himself, twisting his body to look around the backseat.

“Not in your pockets?” Jane says, concerned, chest pressing distractingly against Max's arm as she peeks around her seat into the back of her car.

“No,” Mike says, panic growing in his voice as he unzips his coat to begin rooting around inside. “No, I – Shit, shit shit, what did I do with it? Max, we have to go back to my house and get it.”

“We are  _not_  going back to your house now,” Max snaps. “Calm down, wastoid, it's just a sheet of paper. You don't need it to talk to Will, of all people.”

“Three sheets,” Mike retorts, not endearing himself at all when he leans forward to curl around her seat and Jane moves back to her own side to make room for him. “ _Double-sided_.”

“Jesus Christ,” Max mutters. “Look, Mike, you're a writer -”

“Yeah, so I  _write stuff down_ ,” Mike emphasizes, clinging to the side of her seat with white knuckles.

“No, you express stuff with words,” Max says, tightening her hold on the fingers intertwined with her own when Jane starts to pull away to settle fully back into her seat. “When we're dicking around in a campaign and alter your story-line, do you give up on your whole idea, or do you adapt to what our characters are going through and tell an even better story?”

Mike chews his lip, looking at the girls's joined hands on Max's knee. “This isn't one of our DND campaigns,” he says. “It's Will. If I do it wrong...” He trails off.

“That's my point, Will doesn't know about the three-page double-sided dramatic presentation you had planned,” Max says, ignoring Mike's glare with difficulty since he's practically wrapped around her seat. “He doesn't know all the behind-the-scenes stuff, he's only going to know what you tell him. And you're going to tell him how you feel about him, and that's all he's going to need to hear.”

“It will be perfect because it's how you feel,” Jane says with an encouraging smile, and Max marvels yet again at how she can sum up everything Max struggles to say with lengthy sentences and metaphor in a few quiet, carefully-chosen words.

“I guess,” Mike says, frowning thoughtfully out the windshield. “But -”

Max rolls to a stop, pulling Jane's hand to throw down the parking break with finality. “We're here, go get him, champ,” she says.

She sees Mike's eyes practically bulge out of his head in the rear-view mirror. “What? No, I don't know what to say -”

“You had enough to say to fill three pages, you'll be fine,” Max says. “In fact, your problem might be giving him time to talk.”

“Be honest, friends don't lie,” Jane advises wisely, and with a little nod of her head Mike's door clicks and swings open.

"Are you sure we can't just go back -"

"Goodbye, Mike," Max says, and raises her eyebrows significantly when he glares at her in the mirror.

He scowls darkly, but turns to slide out of the car. Half out of the doorway he pauses, long body folded awkwardly as he turns back towards them and opens his mouth, but Max reaches down with the hand still joined with Jane's and adjusts the parking break with a pointed rev of the engine, and he rolls his eyes and climbs out of the vehicle.

"Good luck, Mike," Jane calls.

"Don't fuck it up," Max adds helpfully as he shuts the door behind him, and he flips her off before turning away from the girls to begin loping towards the house.

Jane leans forward to peer out the window after him as Max pulls the car out onto the empty country road. "I hope it goes well for them," she murmurs, playing with Max's fingers absently.

Max snorts. "As long as he manages to bring up the whole 'love' thing he should be fine, Will's not going to hear anything else," she says. "He gets to hear the person he loves say he's in love with him when he thought it could never happen, and that's enough to send him over the moon. Even if that person  _is_  Mike."

Jane settles back against her seat, eyes so bright she outshines every star in the night sky. "You think so?"

Just because she can, Max raises the cool fingers woven through hers and presses them to her lips. "Yeah, I do. Although I make it a point not to think too hard about what Will and Mike are doing when they're alone, to be honest. Especially when I have much more interesting things on my mind."

Jane snickers, lifting her thumb from their joined hands to stroke Max's jaw reverently before pulling their hands into her lap. "Like what?"

"I can pull over and show you, if you want," Max teases, grinning when Jane laughs and wraps her free hand around Max's to to bring it to her smiling lips. Despite her brazen words she blushes with her whole body as she tries very hard not to picture what she's implying, and she doesn't dare to even glance away from the road as she feels those tractor-beam eyes on her. She clears her throat as Jane lowers their hands back down to her lap and says, "But you were the one with the plan tonight. Before it got hijacked briefly, anyway."

Jane grins, glancing over at Max from beneath her thick eyelashes mischievously. "Yes. Not a three pages double-sided plan, though."

Max laughs. "I'm sure we'll find our way somehow," she says, and returns Jane's squeeze of her fingers with a slightly-sweatier one of her own. She idles at the fork in the road at the end of Will's street and finally risks a glance over her her girlfriend with a quirk of her eyebrow, basking in Jane's glow. "Where to?"

\---

Although he should really be using this time to be writing a new heartfelt speech, Mike is solely, furiously cursing Max in his head as he follows Mrs. Byers down the hallway towards Will's room.

A small part of him, which sound suspiciously like Will, knows it has nothing to do with Max; he was the one who had forgotten his notes at home, and she had already taken time (very minimal time, with maximum complaining, the larger part of him that's not good like Will points out snidely) out of her Saturday night plans to drive him across town basically on a whim. But he knows, deep in his panicking, cursing brain, that it's not a whim; ever since he'd heard Jane mention the word which had lodged itself painfully into his brain and re-framed every interaction he's ever had with one of his best friends like the time Jonathan had spent a whole afternoon showing them the same three pictures with different lighting to demonstrate the importance of shadows the first time he'd come home from college, a part of Mike has been planning this, forming the idea in the back of his curious, anxious mind and shaping it slowly over time like water over stone until he'd been left with the boulder of realization too heavy to avoid or ignore any more. The whim had been the bravery he vaguely remembers feeling only a few hours before, a sudden surge of certainty not about his feelings, which he had been sure of as soon as it had occurred to him that it was possible to have them at all, but that he could and should express them in the way that Will deserves. It helped that Max had also let it slip that Will felt the same way (another reason that he shouldn't be directing his anger at his friend, the Will-conscience in his brain points out unhelpfully), but in a way it put more pressure onto him, because he's known Will basically his whole life and who knows how long Will has been dreaming of Mike returning his feelings and, realistically, who knows how long  _Mike_  has been dreaming about Will returning his feelings, considering the fierce protectiveness and softening of the constant anxious buzzing in his brain has been around in every memory he has of Will since kindergarten, and with that much to declare he doesn't think three pages of organization is over the top, thank you very much -

"Will, sweetie?" Mrs. Byers says, knocking softly on Will's door that they've apparently reached without Mike noticing. "Mike's here to see you."

There's a pause, and then Will's voice, barely audible because of both the door and the way his voice always gets softer when he's cautious about something, says, "Okay?"

Mrs. Byers pushes the door open and smiles at Mike. He, thankfully, has enough decency to thank her quietly as he steps into Will's room, and he congratulates himself on this totally normal interaction in uncharted territory until she closes the door behind him and he's standing, alone, with the boy he loves, in the faint light of Will's reading lamp and the moonlight outside his window.

Will looks at him, brown eyes patient but full of questions. Will really has the most expressive eyes, Mike thinks to himself as he watches the smaller boy raise his eyebrows; it's a pity it's Will who is the artist and not Mike, because those eyes deserve paintings all to themselves, a series of canvases depicting every emotion to shine through them in a single day with enough subtle and startling differences to fill a museum. He supposes that he could attempt to describe them with his writing, but that would add another stack of pages to the essay he doesn't even have to help him, and no matter the endless stream of words he finds himself writing when he thinks about what Will makes him feel, he keeps searching for more, because even a three-page double-sided paper somehow still doesn't completely capture how  _much_  just Will's expressive eyes make him feel -

"Uh, Mike?"

Mike jumps, and feels the blush he seems to wear permanently around Will these days spread across his cheeks. He grins uncertainly and approaches the bed Will is curled up on, and his idiotic traitor brain flashes back to the girls laughing at his sleepover comment in the car.  _You think it's going to go that well, do you?_

He blushes so hot his upper lip starts to sweat, but he doesn't seem to need to worry about this conversation going  _that well_  judging by the look Will is giving him. He lowers himself onto the edge of the bed at Will's feet awkwardly, wishing for the millionth time since Halloween that he remembered how to smile the way he used to at Will before he'd needed borderline-unhelpful lesbian pep talks and double-sided essays to talk to him. "Hey," he says, and Will smiles at him a bit cautiously. "Uh, sorry. What are you drawing?"

Will shrugs, eyes dropping to the sketchbook he has propped on his thighs as he moves his pencil over the paper almost absently. "Just my midterm project for art class," he says.

Mike waits, but Will keeps shading and doesn't turn the pad around for him to see the drawing. His heart sinks, but he ploughs forward, hoping the bravery is somewhere in front of him since it's definitely not behind him, "That's cool. You probably could have handed in that tome you made for our DND characters and saved yourself some work, though, it was that good."

Will's cheeks heat up a little bit, but he keeps his eyes on his sketchpad. "It's not work, I like drawing."

Mike winces and looks down at his hands. He's been avoiding direct interaction with Will as he plans his perfect romantic gesture, but Jane and Max have been heavily implying for the past few weeks that Will is upset with him and he finally sees what they mean as Will's eyes avoid his for the first time he can remember. He swallows, the noise deafening in the quiet room, and he's trying to push through the panic and self-loathing at knowing he's hurt Will even with the best intentions when the smaller boy sighs and shifts beside him. "Why are you here, Mike?" he says softly.

There's no condemnation in his soft voice, just curiosity, but Mike cringes anyway. "I - I need to talk to you about something." He curses himself, and Max for good measure, as he searches his brain frantically for the opening sentence of his carefully-crafted thoughts, although he's starting to doubt that Will will think it's as joyful news as he'd expected if he's this upset.

Will sighs again, and Mike sees him carefully place his sketchbook and pencil on the bed out of the corner of his eye before he swings his legs over the edge of the mattress to sit next to Mike. "Look," he says, voice so carefully understanding that anyone but Mike might have missed the quiver in it. "I get it. We kind of sprung the whole - the sexuality thing on you, and you're still adjusting. It's okay."

"What?" Mike says quickly, looking up to meet Will's gaze before he can think better of it. If he'd been blushing before, he's on fire now; has Will known about his bisexuality this whole time? Did he know about his feelings, too? What did it mean that he hadn't said anything? Was he waiting for Mike to take the lead, or - Mike's heart clenches so painfully his whole body winces - were the girls wrong and he'd come bursting into Will's room like he was the white knight when he was really -

Will avoids his wide-eyed gaze in favour of his own hands twisting anxiously in his lap, the heel of one socked foot bouncing anxiously off the toe of the other. "I shouldn't have expected everyone to be cool with me being gay all at once," he says, so quiet Mike has to strain to hear him even though he's so close their knees brush with every movement of his leg. "If you need some time I - I understand, I'd just have appreciated it more if you'd told me earlier."

Mike stares, utterly uncomprehending, and then the realization crashes into him all at once, like running into a brick wall but twice as painful. " _What?_ " he says again, disbelieving, and then reaches out for the hands twisting in Will's lap, ducking his head to search for his eyes. "You think I'm freaked out by - Will, Jesus, no. No way."

Will freezes when Mike's hand covers both of his own, and he finally looks up to meet his gaze. Mike smiles automatically, drinking in his handsome face, his mussed bed-head hair, the stunning brown eyes that seem to take up half of his pale face now swimming with confusion, hurt, and just a little bit of hope, and then that blanket of calmness settles over his anxious brain and he's himself for the first time in weeks. He may be the brave knight who would fight for Will without question or thought, but it's Will's eyes on him that make him believe that he can. "I'm not freaked out by you being gay," he says, because he know Will needs to hear the words, and he feels Will's hands shake beneath his own sweaty ones. "The opposite, actually. I'm sorry I made you feel like I did, and for being weird recently. Although you guys coming out did have something to do with that."

Will, who had looked ready to collapse with relief at his apology, tenses at his last words. "It did?"

"Yeah," Mike smiles, squeezing his hands reassuringly. "Specifically something Jane said, actually."

Will grimaces, looking down at their joined hands. "I'm sorry that didn't work out for you," he says earnestly. "Especially when you found out... That way."

Mike laughs; his misplaced fascination with Jane was so inconsequential compared to the revelations of the past month he'd almost forgotten he'd been so upset about it. "No, I don't care about that," he says, marveling at how Will's soft artist hands looked nestled in his sweat-slicked, knobbly ones. "Although I could stand to see less of them making out every time I turn around. I meant Jane mentioned another way of liking boys, bisexuality, and ever since then I've been thinking about it. I think I like boys and girls."

He keeps his gentle hold on Will's hands, but he can't help the nervous shudder which runs through his body when Will looks up to meet his eyes abruptly. He feels himself blush furiously, wondering how Will stands to keep holding his hand when it's so wet he feels the sweat drip down the inside of his wrist, but it's impossible to feel anything but content with the soft, breath-taking smile spreading slowly across Will's face. "Oh," Will says, and he swings one leg up to face Mike on the bed, eyes brimming with everything Mike is feeling that his essay couldn't have covered no matter how many pages he'd had. "Oh, that - that's a lot to process in a short period, I can see why would wouldn't want to talk. Thank you for telling me."

Mike grins, realizing how parched he's been over the past few weeks as he drinks in Will's brilliant smile. "Thank you for listening," he says, and Will's cheeks flush to match his own. "But that's only part of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Will's forehead wrinkles a bit with concern, and Mike's lips part with the urge to kiss them away. "Okay," he says softly. "If you're ready you can tell me anything."

Feeling as if his smile is too big for his mouth, Mike looks down at their joined hands. They've held hands like this countless times over the years, usually when one of them needs comfort or reassurance, and it's been such an unspoken cornerstone of their friendship that he's never considered that the intimacy of the gesture may not be entirely from friendship. Although, even as everything he is feels so achingly full of adoration for the messy, earnest boy in front of him he wonders if it's going to burst out of him before he's prepared what he wants to say, he thinks to himself that there's no way to separate his friendship with Will from his love for him; they can never be  _more than friends_ , since Will's friendship means more than anything to him, and his love for Will is so intricately interwoven into the tapestry of their friendship that he has understood that he's loved Will for years without needing to think about what that love means. He has always been Will's, but as he feels his friend's hands shake beneath his own the utter magnitude of what he has to express sits on his chest so heavily he forgets how to breathe. He looks up abruptly when he feels the panic spark in his mind again to see Will's big, expressive eyes, watching him steadily as he waits, and Mike lets his mind calm and his mouth open.

"Do you remember the first day of kindergarten?"

Will's forehead wrinkles again, but his lips pulls back in a soft smile tinged with confusion. "Uh, no, Mike, no one remembers kindergarten."

"I do," Mike smiles. "I knew nobody. I had no friends, and I just felt so alone and so scared, but I saw you on the swings and you were alone, too. You were just swinging by yourself. And I walked up to you and I asked. I asked if you wanted to be my friend. And you said yes. You said yes," he repeats, words heavy with overwhelming feeling, and he sees Will's eyes widen with confusion and sudden, cautious hope. "it was the best thing I've ever done."

Will stares at him, gaze jumpy as he seems to try to take in each individual inch of Mike's face at once. "It was?" he whispers.

"The best," Mike emphasizes, and he raises one hand to cup Will's flushed cheek. His hand is somehow clammy and sweaty at the same time, but Will leans into his touch like he's sinking into a warm bath. "Because it led to this. I have you. And you have me."

"Mike," Will croaks. "You can't - What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying I don't know when I fell in love with you, Will Byers," Mike says, or at least he thinks he says, since his heart is pounding too loudly for him to hear his own voice, "but I know that I am. Maybe I always have been, since the first time I talked to you on the swing, or maybe it was when your mom let us make candles for Hanukkah in your kitchen that one year and mine were so shitty she had to cut all the lumps off to fit it in the menorah but you wouldn't let your family light them anyway and you saved them to put out in your room every year, or when you couldn't afford to buy me a birthday present in second grade and you cried at my party when you gave me a card you'd made yourself and it's still the coolest present I've ever gotten, or maybe one of the million other memories we have together, but somewhere in one of them, or maybe a little bit in all of them, I fell in love with you. In every way, I'm in love with you, Will.”

Will's expressive eyes are so full with happiness and hope and disbelief that his tears have no place in them and overflow over his blushing cheeks. He grips Mike's shirt with hands that shake so badly the material flutters violently over the taller boy's stomach, jaw clenching has he holds Mike's eyes with resolution. “Mike,” he says, “I need to know that what you're talking about is the same thing I am, because – you -”

“Every way, Will,” Mike says, brushing away the tears rolling down his friend's cheek with his thumb even as he starts to feel his own eyes start to well. “You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Will you be my boyfriend?”

Will gives a quiet sob and flings his arms around Mike, burrowing into his neck as he half-climbs over his lap. Mike laughs, tasting his own tears as they roll over his too-wide grin, and pulls Will into his body as best he can, but even when he's not doing the new best thing he's ever done his arms aren't equipped to carry anyone's full body weight and they go tumbling backwards onto the bed, shouting and laughing and crying so loudly he's surprised Mrs. Byers doesn't burst into the bedroom with a shotgun looking for intruders.

Will settles over him on all fours and slides their fingers together beside Mike's head, a mess of snot and tears and pencil smudges and altogether more stunning than Mike has ever seen him. “Can I kiss you?” he asks breathlessly.

“If you'll be my boyfriend,” Mike shoots back, untruthfully, because no matter what Will does or says right now Mike is going to let him kiss him.

Will's beaming lips part in his silent laugh, the one where he's so far gone he can't get enough air into his lungs to make a noise, and he leans down to hover so close the hard point of his nose bumps Mike's cheekbone. “I love you, Mike Wheeler,” he exhales into Mike's mouth, and Mike tilts his chin up suddenly like he's drowning. “In every way. I'll be your boyfriend if you'll be mine.”

Mike clutches the back of his frizzing hair with the hand not entwined with Will's and crushes their mouths together. It's more about the feeling of their lips pressing forcefully against each other, the first few times, gasping mouth to gasping mouth so close it's like they're trying to give each other CPR, but as Mike discovers a new kind of intoxicating quietness Will can cast over his brain at the touch of his lips, he wonders, vaguely, whether it's not how he's being kissed that makes all the difference, but  _who_  he's kissing.

They slow down, mouths as soft and worshipful as hands as they kiss and and laugh and revel, because, as Mike thinks dazedly to himself as Will curls up on top of him and kisses his nose with shaking lips, they've always had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to @micyclewheeler who leaves bitchin comments and wanted byler, I hope my first attempt at them satisfied your byler craving!!!  
> So apparently I'm doing this instead of studying for exams so look out for part two tomorrow!!! This is still an elmax fic I promise, I just wanted to separate their scenes so that neither take away from the emotional impact of the other if that makes sense? I will try to answer comments now but if not tomorrow for sure, every single one makes me ashlghajdjf;lj so thank you!!!<3


	25. Chapter 25

If she's going to freeze to death, Max muses through her frost-bitten mind as she tries to keep her hand wrapped around her girlfriend's while she trails behind her without her fingers breaking off like icicles, at least she has the best view in the world.

“Here,” Jane whispers, and leads her confidently through the birch trees almost as frozen as Max is and into a clearing. A squat little cabin sits tucked away in the trees on the far end of the secluded expanse of snow, inviting orange light glowing through the drawn curtains in the windows, and Max reluctantly moves her gaze away from Jane to eye the cottage suspiciously as Jane strides through the thick snow like she's using snowshoes.

“Uh, not that I don't appreciate you incorporating my love of horror into your romantic date idea, but why are we heading towards the murder cabin in the middle of the woods?” Max asks uneasily, hopping into Jane's footprints gracelessly on the blocks of ice which used to be her feet.

Jane tosses an amused look over her shoulder, the gel in her hair glowing with the light from the cabin like a halo. “Murder cabin?”

“Yeah.” Max stumbles in her girlfriend's footprints, stomping one boot into the crunchy show beside the indent and wincing as she feels the hem of her jeans and her sock soak through. “That place is obviously where Leatherface lives waiting for teenagers too stupid to realize that once they go in they'll never come out alive.”

Jane pulls a face so adorable Max almost considers her imminent death worth seeing it. “This cabin is Hop's.”

“Yeah, he would definitely have a murder cabin,” Max mutters, and then almost runs into Jane's back when she stops abruptly in front of her. “Jesus, warn a girl. Or are we huddling for warmth?”

Jane turns her chin so that her smirk is so close Max suddenly doesn't have as dire of a need for central heating. “Watch the tripwire,” she says, voice so smoldering it takes Max a few dizzy beats too long to process what she's said when she turns away, but her jaw drops with disbelief when she watches her girlfriend step carefully over a silver string flashing in the moonlight.

“Seriously?” she mutters, careful to land in Jane's snow tracks as she navigates slowly over the tripwire she can only catch glimpses of in the dark December night. “This is not helping convince me that we're not heading towards our gruesome deaths.”

“That prevents us from being murdered,” Jane explains, voice earnest as she ploughs through the snow impressively. “Precaution. And why would Hop want to murder you?”

“I'll demonstrate when we get inside,” Max mumbles under her breath, narrowing her eyes against the wind as she looks back and forth behind them when they finally reach the steps and begin to climb.

Jane tosses her a curious look, but unfortunately doesn't ask for further clarification before fishing around in her jacket pocket and pulling out a ring of keys. She unlocks the door and leads the way inside, and Max can't help but close her eyes blissfully when the stale, hot air of central heating greets her frost-bitten skin as she walks through the doorway.

Jane closes the door behind them and pulls her further into the cabin, and Max kicks the toes of her boots against the welcome mat and looks around with interest. It's exactly how she would have expected a hunting cabin to look, one cozy room filled with old furniture and a kitchenette even smaller than Chief Hopper's trailer, and she makes a point of frowning pensively as she takes her time examining the worn blanket hanging over the back of the couch as she feels Jane's expectant tractor-beam eyes on her.

“All right, a little bit less murder-y on the inside,” she says, and Jane snickers and steps close to brush a bit of snow off of her shoulder. She takes the opportunity to wrap her arms around the other girl's waist, pressing their stomachs together through their coats as she hopes Jane's little shiver isn't entirely from the cold they'd just escaped. “Does Chief Hopper know we're here?”

Jane nods, sliding her arms over Max's shoulders and jingling the ring of keys she still has in one hand. “Yes. He had to give me the keys. That's why my curfew is an hour earlier than usual.”

Max laughs, leaning their foreheads together only partially because she's so dizzy from Jane's presence she can't seem to hold her head upright any longer. “Damn. Well, there's no bedroom, so he's ahead of us in that regard too.”

“There's two, mine's over there,” Jane says helpfully, turning them slightly to point at an ancient wooden door Max had assumed was a closet.

Max raises her eyebrows, looking at Jane with confusion. “Your bedroom? Does Chief Hopper take you hunting a lot?”

Jane's lips twitch up into her half-smile. “No. This was his grandfather's. When I first came here and we weren't sure if the bad men could track me through the system I stayed here before anyone saw me. That's why it's cleaned up and there's a tripwire. Precautions.”

Max stares, heart aching as she pulls Jane closer without a thought. “You stayed in the middle of the woods by yourself? Why couldn't you just hide in his house?”

“I did, after a few weeks,” Jane says with a shrug, playing with a strand of Max's hair with a little smile on her face too sweet for talking about being on the run from the government. “But we weren't sure if we were followed. Hop wanted to phase me in. This cabin is harder to find than his house.”

“I'll say,” Max mutters, and Jane snickers. “So it's really an anti-murder cabin,” she muses, and basks in Jane's unfiltered laugh as she rubs soothing circles on the back of her leather jacket. “Hey, seriously, this doesn't bring up any bad memories or anything for you, does it?”

Jane shrugs, looking around the cabin with thoughtful dark eyes. “It wasn't bad, just... Lonely,” she says slowly, and Max's chest aches both at the thought of Jane ever being lonely and at her own heart trying valiantly to break through her ribcage when Jane's hypnotizing eyes slide back to meet hers. “But I'm not trapped here now, and I'm not lonely any more. You're here.”

Max barely has time to swallow the excess saliva and overwhelming feelings clogging up her throat before Jane leans in to kiss her. She tightens her arms around her girlfriend, lining up their bodies as close as possible through their jackets as she returns the kiss with soft reverence; she may not be able to admit the depth of her feelings out loud, yet, not when Jane already has too many overwhelming circumstances to deal with and enough people drowning her in expectations while she's just trying to survive, but she can soak each kiss in it, let her feel how admired and supported and wanted and  _loved_  she is with every touch until she's ready to hear the words. Jane gives a little sigh into her mouth and presses closer, and Max draws her in, as slow and steady and soft with her lips and tongue as everything she wants to say to her.

Her fingers find their way beneath the hem of Jane's jacket at her waist, and the punk girl jerks like she's been electrocuted and dances out of her arms. “Cold,” she laughs.

Max arches an eyebrow, smirking mischievously at the other girl as she advances slowly. “Oh, do I have cold hands?” she asks innocently, and grabs for her girlfriend while the other girl laughs and dips gracefully away from her. “Me, the person you just dragged through the woods in December for four hours?”

“It wasn't even twenty minutes,” Jane grins, and darts away expertly when Max lunges forward to make a grab for her. “Max!”

“You're not as cold as I am, hmmm?” Max says, mock-thoughtful, following Jane as she ducks behind the couch with an anticipatory little laugh brighter than all the lights in the cabin combined. “Well, guess I know where I can... Warm up my hands.” She leaps forwards and scoops Jane up, trying to spin her around while her own cold fingers scramble over soft leather and wriggling hips searching for bare skin. Jane's laugh is pure light as she half-heartedly tries to wiggle away from Max's embrace, and it's probably more the sound than the shift in her weight that throws Max  off balance and sends them tumbling onto the couch in a wild, flailing mess of limbs. Max grins as Jane gives up completely and buries her face in the redhead's shoulder, body shaking with her intoxicating laughter, but as she curls around the other girl to pull her closer something on the tacky little table taking up most of the kitchen area catches her eye and she sits up, peering over Jane's head curiously.

"They deliver take-away all the way out here?"

Jane turns her head against Max's shoulder towards the table too, and Max can feel her little half-smile form against her flushed skin through the thin material of her shirt. "No. I brought it earlier today. The in-sulat-ed bag should have kept it warm."

Max feels her heart flutter helplessly inside her chest. "You did that walk by yourself to bring food for us?"

Jane shrugs against her, sliding her warm palm over Max's rapidly- heating one. "It's not that long," she grins, and wriggles with a little laugh when Max pokes her hip beneath her jacket. "I wanted to cook for you, but... This will taste better." She tilts her head up to meet Max's eyes, biting her bottom lip a bit apologetically.

Max's eyes drop to Jane's teeth digging into her lower lip with hazy eyes, her own lips parting automatically at the sight as her whole body is engulfed with the flames from Jane's suns so close to her frozen skin. "You were going to cook for our date?" she repeats dazedly.

Jane makes a face. "Yes. But Hop said with my cooking skills it would be more romantic if I  _didn't_  cook. So I got food you like." She draws away to rise from the couch gracefully, pulling Max behind her by their joined hands. Max follows in her wake helplessly, floating in her gravitational pull as she allows herself to be lead to the table. They shed their coats and boots and sink into the two chairs side-by-side at the table as Jane begins rifling through the insulated bag. Jane drops her hand to begin pulling out food containers, but Max shifts her hips to shuffle her chair closer and wraps her arms around her girlfriend's waist, pressing her blushing face shamelessly into the midnight-black blouse Jane is wearing and breathing in her earthy scent instead of the delicious aroma from the Chinese food Jane is carefully placing across the table.

Max gives a little moan of protest when Jane pulls away to move around the table, and the punk girl tosses her an amused look over her shoulder as she heads towards the refrigerator on the other side of the kitchen. "Food," she points out, her lips twitching up into her little half-smile before she turns around to open the refrigerator door.

"You're warm," Max shoots back, although she's strangely not feeling the cold as much as she had been earlier, if the layer of sweat on her palms so thick she can barely hold her chopsticks is any indication. "Is this the part of the date where you leave me to eat by myself?"

Jane turns around so that Max can see her eyeroll, a long-necked bottle and two wine glasses clutched in her hands. Max raises her eyebrows, and Jane grins dazzlingly and turns the bottle to show her the grape juice label as she pads back over to the table. "I was hoping Hop left some beer here, but he must have thought of it before I did," she says, setting her load down onto the little table and sinking into the seat next to Max's in one graceful movement.

Max laughs, wrapping an arm around the back of Jane's chair as she leans forward to open the bottle. "He would think of that. That's okay, though, I have to drive later anyway. He would definitely be the one on the road pulling me over if I had even a milliliter of alcohol in me."

"We still have awhile," Jane says, handing Max her wine glass filled with grape juice, and although she knows what her girlfriend means the heady warmth which flows through her belly as they clink their glasses together feels more intoxicating than any beer.

Jane picks up on using chopsticks quickly, and despite her careful planning to make this a romantic dinner they end up passing the take-away containers between them and sharing food instead of using dishes. They keep their chairs side-by-side while they eat, leaning into each other to take a box or feed the other something from their chopsticks, and Max is so dizzily, blissfully lost in her gravitational pull she barely waits until she sets down the last empty container before she pulls her girlfriend off of her chair and onto her lap. Jane smiles into her kiss, sliding those perfect thighs on either side of Max's as she takes her slow, luxurious time returning the kiss while Max tries mindlessly to figure out how to caress her back and cradle her cheeks at the same time. Jane indulges her for a few greedy kisses, pressing their chests together and burying her fingers in Max's hair as she takes the lead on their dance, and Max is panting so deeply when she pulls back she feels Jane move with the heaving of her chest.

"You're so beautiful," she breathes without thought, raising both hands to slide her thumbs over Jane's flushed cheeks reverently. Jane smiles softly and leans up to kiss her forehead, and Max presses her panting lips to Jane's pointed little chin when she hovers close enough and follows the sharp line of her jaw down to her neck to kiss the strong pulse beating beneath her pale skin. Jane's quiet little intake of breath makes her lose her head completely and she pulls her girlfriend's face back down to her own, one hand holding their bodies flush together on her lower back while the other cups her cheek as they kiss and kiss and kiss. When she has to breathe again she doesn't let Jane go far, sliding her hands over the gentle curves of her back in wonder as she nuzzles their noses together and breathes in her heady scent. Jane lets out a shuddering breath and starts leaving a trail of light, scalding kisses along Max's jaw, and Max lets her eyelashes flutter closed as she tries to remember how to breathe through the thousands of suns burning uncontrollably in her chest.

"You liked the dinner?" Jane mumbles against her skin, nipping lightly against the sensitive underside of her chin and sending bolts of lightening from the spot through her whole body.

Max grins drunkenly, raising her chin into Jane's mouth shamelessly as she massages her lower back. "Yeah, I'd say I appreciated it," she says, and Jane smiles into her throat and shifts in her arms to bring those addictive lips back up to meet hers. "You sure set the bar higher, I need to take you somewhere nicer than Mike's basement sometime," she muses, mind deliciously clouded as Jane kisses the side of her mouth and nuzzles their noses together, slightly-parted lips hovering just close enough to tease hers. "This is fancy."

Jane perks up, sliding along her body in a way that makes her have to put all of her limited energy into not letting her eyes roll back into her head. "You haven't even seen the best part," she breathes, and suddenly she's gone, every inch of Max that had been gloriously pressed against her suddenly frozen with the loss of her warmth.

"Whuh -?" Max barely has the time to consider opening her eyes before she's launched to her feet by Jane's insistent tug on her hand, those slender fingers weaving through hers as she leads her around the table with great purpose. Max can only stumble after her, overheated brain unable to focus on anything beyond how much she wants to be sharing a chair with her girlfriend again, and it's not until her coat lands on her face when she fails to react to Jane's gentle toss that she starts to process the fact that they are apparently past the kissing phase in Jane's date idea.

Her heart squeezes when Jane pauses to shove her foot into her combat boots without unlacing them. “Uh, are we leaving already?” she asks carefully, trying not to sound as disappointed as she feels. It feels indescribably good to be alone with Jane, truly alone, flirting and laughing and touching without having to hold back for the people always lurking around them, and she can't think of anywhere else Jane can take her that will be as secluded and intimate as this place. She's so enamored with the cabin she'd been mocking not even an hour ago that she's half-considering asking Chief Hopper for the keys for a full day the next time he lets Jane go out with her, but she's pretty certain that will put their only hope for privacy on his infuriating watch list, and given the past few minutes and the state her quivering knees are still in as she leans against the front door weakly in a way which she hopes looks casual, she doesn't entirely blame him.

Jane flashes her a mischievous look from beneath her long lashes, which does not help the state of her knees at all. “No,” she says mysteriously, and pops the collar of her leather jacket against the wind in a motion which makes Max almost follow her mindlessly out the door without putting her boots back on. Max hastily tries to stomp her feet into her boots and pull her coat on at the same time, and by the time she stumbles out the door, zipping the collar of her coat up over the lower half of her blushing face, Jane is leaning against the railing of the porch, looking far more beautiful than should be allowed in the yellow glow of the house lights as she crosses her arms tightly across her chest against the wind and narrows her breath-taking eyes at something on the roof that Max can't see.

She looks down when Max shuts the door behind her and lights up, so radiant in the darkness Max resists the urge to shield her eyes. “Come here,” she says, and steps forward to take Max's hands in her own and lead her towards the porch railing. Max follows willingly, but her heart drops as suddenly as her hands when Jane slips her addictive fingers away and hops her backside up on the porch railing. “Do what I do,” she says seriously, and with no further explanation she reaches up for the lip of the roof and hauls her body up and out of sight.

Max raises her eyebrows, leaning over the porch railing to peer up onto the roof. “Jane?” she calls, and catches a distracting glimpse of long jean-clad leg before familiar slim fingers reach over the edge of the roof. Max can't help but grin as she reaches up to grab them, and they're both laughing by the time she's scrambling over the lip of the flat roof and onto the rough shingles. She stumbles a bit, but Jane's hands are solid in hers and she steps into her girlfriend's body, leaning their foreheads together as she drinks in the endless beauty within Jane's brown eyes.

“If you wanted an exercise portion of the evening we could have stayed in the kitchen,” she says lowly, dizzily lost in the impossible universe contained in Jane where she can make jokes like this.

Jane grins at her, teeth sinking into her very kissable lower lip. “Look up,” she whispers.

Max does, and her breath catches in her raw throat; a window into the night sky swirls above them, each blindingly-bright star clear against the inky blackness of the night sky in the cozy protective circle the trees make around the clearing. Although Hawkins isn't exactly a large city there is enough light pollution that she can't remember the last time she saw the galaxy in all its fury and glory this clearly, and she drags Jane sideways a bit as she spins with her head rolled back as far as she dares, drinking it in with wide eyes as her heart pounds in her chest.

“Holy shit,” she breathes.

“I thought you would like it,” Jane says, and Max looks down dazedly to see Jane watching her watch the cosmos with a soft expression, her bright eyes and small smile outshining the incredible universe above them. “You liked the planetarium so much. And you didn't get to spend much time there because of – Jake,” she adds, voice darkening as it shapes around the boy's name.

Max can't help but laugh, raising the fingers intertwined with her right hand to cup Jane's glowing cheek. “Who?” she teases, and Jane smiles and leans into her touch. “Seriously, this is amazing. You're amazing. I can't believe you saw this and thought of me.”

She feels Jane's cheek twitch under her hand with her little half-smile. “I love you.”

It's a good thing Jane had led her away from the edge of the roof, because if she'd been any closer she would have fallen off the edge. “I – What?” she croaks, every inch of her freezing solid in a way that has nothing to do with the frigid night around them.

Jane's big eyes are puzzled as she searches Max's face, sculpted cheek burning Max's frozen fingers as she nuzzles it a bit. “Oh. Different types of love. I'm  _in_  love with you?” She wrinkles her perfect little nose, looking pensive.

Max can feel the crystal-clear universe above them rushing dizzily as she and Jane stay perfectly still. “You are?” she says, stupidly, but the only other things she can think of to say are  _Thank you_  and  _Are you sure_  and somehow those seem worse.

Jane's beautiful features are beginning to pinch with concern. “Yes?” she says cautiously.

“No, I -” They stumble backwards a bit as Max presses forward desperately, but Jane plants her feet and only tilts her head curiously when Max raises both of their joined hands to cradle her face shakily. She's so impossible, standing under the same night sky as Max with her breath crystallizing in the same cold air and gazing back at her with the same overwhelming need shining through her endless eyes, and Max makes the decision to believe the impossible as she lets those beautiful eyes draw the words out of her gaping mouth. “I love you, too. Jesus, I'm so in love with you.”

Jane lights up, her beaming smile blinding in the dark night around them, and Max is powerless to do anything except close her eyes and kiss her. The awe-inspiring galaxy she's somehow found her way to where not only is Jane not overwhelmed by her intense feelings but, somehow, returns them, even a fraction of them, bursts behind her eyelids as Jane's parted lips brush hers, and she tugs her closer abruptly, kisses her harder, tries to feel the details of this moment with her body instead of just inside her head so that she has something tangible she can believe is real. Jane kisses her back harder, breaking away from her hands to wrap her arms around her neck tight enough to crush their bodies together, and, in that fittingly impossible moment, Max believes her.

She murmurs her love over and over into their kisses, until Jane sucks her bottom lip between both of her own possessively. “Max,” she says breathlessly when she pulls away, fingers carding through the thick red hair over the back of her neck. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Max says giddily, pointlessly, and she crushes their bruised, gasping mouths together for another impossible moment. “We should have gotten that key copied while the stores were still open,” she mumbles against Jane's lips, and slips her tongue inside when they part with Jane's laugh.

Jane is panting a bit when she finally pulls back. “I can just ask Hop again.”

It takes Max a dizzy moment to remember what she's talking about. “Oh, yeah, Chief Hopper's going to be fast and loose with those keys,” she mutters, and Jane snorts against her mouth. “I can't drive you home from school but I can take you out to his secret cabin so remote it's not on any known map whenever I want.”

Jane laughs so hard she pulls away to bury her face in Max's shoulder, and although she misses her lips Max revels in the sound of her genuine laughter. “You would do that walk in the snow again?” Jane challenges, peeking up at Max with mischief shining in her starlight eyes.

“I would for this,” Max says, before she can think better of it, and she doesn't realize she's said it out loud until Jane's smile softens and she lifts her face from Max's coat to kiss her again. She drowns in the kiss, weightless and gloriously helpless in Jane's gravity, and the only reason she's sure she's still standing upright is Jane's strong arms wound tightly around her.

Jane pulls back just enough to brush their noses together, her long lashes fluttering softly against Max's blushing cheek. "We don't need the key for the roof," she breathes.

Max laughs, more because of the sheer amount of giddiness bubbling in her chest and up her throat than anything, and lifts one hand to run a worshipful thumb over the fiery curve of Jane's cheek. "I like the way you think, Hopper."

"I love the way you think," Jane says, and Max's adoring smile forms against her eager kiss.

Max pulls her impossibly closer, and they linger there, in their own little universe where they can kiss and giggle and love each other under the stars, everything they've said and need to say in every brush of their lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> El is so extra I'm so in love with her. Actually my favourite part of this chapter is the implication that she talked about this with Hopper and he gave her romantic advice ahslhgfjsl;hf  
> This chapter is dedicated to @stranded_star, who is one of the most boss writers I've ever had the pleasure to read and still manages to leave the most positive, encouraging comments on my little novel, seriously their comments are more well-crafted than my chapters and motivate me to keep writing every time so thank you for reading!!!<3  
> Now I really have to study so yell at me if you see me on here before June, but I'm definitely going to answer any comments I got on the last few chapters, thank you for making it to 25 chapters with me!!! Who knew I'd get this far ashflsahdjf;lj


	26. Chapter 26

The smile on Will's blushing face is so wide Max's own cheeks ache sympathetically. “Max,” he whispers, and covers his face with his hands.

“I know,” Max grins.

He rocks forward, hands still hiding his face, and then lifts them to cover his ears, eyes dancing the way he seems to be trying to keep his feet from doing. “ _Max_ ,” he emphasizes.

“I know,” Max laughs.

His throaty groan fills the empty A.V. room. The party has always claimed the club classroom as their own over exam weeks, a presidential privilege Mike loved to abuse, and the first morning of their senior midterms finds Max and Will alone while they wait for the rest of their friends to finish with their geography exam. They're supposed to be studying, but Will hasn't had anyone to talk to about Mike's declaration of love over the weekend and Max knows from experience that he's not going to be able to concentrate on something as inconsequential as exam preparation anytime soon.

“He just – And then I -” Will's floppy hair sticks out at awkward angles when he runs his undoubtedly-sweaty fingers along the sides, but the new look matches his uncontainable happiness so well Max doesn't feel the need to say anything. “All this time,” he croaks, looking at her with shining eyes, “I've loved him for years and now he finally loves me back. All this time I spent feeling like a creep, like I was being a bad friend and perverting everything he did when he was just trying to be nice to me, and instead of being weirded out by it he falls in love with me.”

Max smiles, leaning her backside on the desk behind her as she watches him shift restlessly like he doesn't know what to do with his hands. “Yeah, guess he's less of an idiot than I thought.”

“Hey, that's my boyfriend you're talking about,” Will jokes, and then he grins like he's just realized what he's said and ducks his head so quickly he stumbles backwards a bit.

Max laughs and pushes off the desk, slipping between the rows to throw an arm around his shoulders. “Your boyfriend Mike Wheeler,” she teases, and squeezes him in a one-armed hug when he grins so wide she can see his mouth shake around the hand he lifts to cover it.

Will lowers his hand and opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but Dustin's loud laugh echoing through the hallway outside the classroom makes them both look up abruptly. Max glances at the clock on the wall and straightens eagerly, stomach pounding painfully like a second heartbeat, and it's Will's turn to snicker when she drops her arm around him to step towards the door like she can feel Jane's gravitational pull even before she sees her.

Max grimaces at him over her shoulder as he leans forward to brush her arm with his pantomime of a punch, his helpless smile twisting into a smirk. “Shut up, mouth-breather,” she hisses, although she can't stop her grin when his answering laugh is much shakier than usual. “Like you're one to talk. By the way, nice 'do.” She reaches back to muss his hair, and he's stumbling out of her reach with his hands flattening down his hair when the door opens and they both freeze in place.

Mike is the first through the door, all long limbs and pinched features as he bursts into the room like it's the last level of a video game. His face lights up when he catches sight of Will, expression softening to mirror the giddy smile Will wears, and the happiness he radiates is so bright it could only be outshined by Jane when she tries to follow him into the room and bumps into his back with a look of confusion. Mike stumbles forward and blushes lightly, but the blinding grin on his face doesn't waver as he finds his legs again and begins striding across the room towards them. Max pads forward irresistibly too, only taking her eyes reluctantly off of her girlfriend to flash Mike a mischievous grin, and they bump fists silently as they pass each other towards their respective partners.

Jane's cheeks are flushed as she laughs at something Dustin is saying as he closes the door behind them, and Max's heart throws itself giddily against her ribcage when the other girl lowers the hand covering her laughter to reach for her. “Hi,” Max says breathlessly, and draws her close with a reverent hand on her cheek for a soft kiss before Jane can answer.

Dustin's pointedly-raised voice breaks through the Jane-fog in her brain like a bullhorn. "Hi, Max."

Jane smiles and starts to pull back, but Max reaches up to cradle the base of her gelled hair with one gentle hand to keep her close, lifting the other to flip Dustin off without breaking the kiss. Dustin laughs loudly, and he waits until Max finishes taking her time savoring the kiss before he punches her shoulder lightly.

"Hi, Dustin," Max says, a bit more breathlessly than she means to, and rolls onto her tiptoes with furrowed eyebrows to peer around him. "Where's Lucas?"

"Getting his lunch," Dustin says. "Since apparently we're going to be quarantined in here until the English exam for your super secret emergency party meeting."

"Not my meeting," Max says, and then is distracted from her explanation by Jane weaving their fingers together between their bodies. Her world narrows down to Jane's full lowered lashes and pink cheeks, and she steps backwards without a thought, leading the other girl forward by the hand entwined with hers.

“I got you lunch, the cafeteria is open all day during exams,” she says, and basks in the sunlight of Jane's answering smile. “BLT bagel with a side of tater tots, real brain food.” She grins at Jane's snicker and turns on the ball of her foot reluctantly, leading the way through the circle of desks towards the two boys whispering at the center of the room. “How was your first high school midterm?”

Jane makes a face as Max pulls her around a vacant desk and into her arms. “Don't like them.”

Max laughs, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's waist and leaning their foreheads together dizzily. “Yeah, you're officially a jaded high school student like the rest of us,” she says, barely knowing what she's talking about as she drowns in those overpowering tractor-beam eyes so close to hers, and she tilts her head and kisses Jane softly before the other girl's small smile can fully form across her lips.

She drowns in Jane's closeness, every part of her which brushes any part of Jane's body as she leans into the kiss with a sigh lighting up with the heat of her thousands of burning suns, and when she blinks her eyes open dazedly when Jane eases backwards she's surprised to find her feet still on the ground. She's still too lost in Jane's constellations to react quickly enough to stop her when she slips out of her grasp, but when her girlfriend hops her backside onto the desk behind them and reaches for her, arms possessive as they wrap around her to press her back into Jane's chest as those perfect thighs settle on either side of her hips, she can't seem to find anything in her clouded mind to protest.

It takes her an embarrassingly long time to notice the reason Jane had stopped kissing her; Lucas is closing the classroom door behind him, arching an eyebrow with a smirk so smug it's a measure of how drunk she is on Jane that it doesn't annoy her. “Lock the door,” she says, settling back into Jane's embrace like it doesn't set every inch of her prickling skin on fire, and his second eyebrow joins the first up his forehead as he pauses and clicks the lock on the door shut.

“'We all need to talk' is not a great thing to tell your friends right before an exam, by the way,” Lucas says, striding across the room to stand next to Dustin and cross his arms over his chest.

Max rolls her eyes at him. “What, did you think we were going to convene to plan a defense strategy against the Mind Flayer?” she retorts. “It's a party meeting, talking is what we do.”

“We do have a psionic girl in our party, who's to say encountering the Mind Flayer is outside the realm of possibility?” Dustin says, although he's wearing his usual sunny smile. She feels Jane's silent laugh vibrate against her back, and despite the heat scorching her body from the inside out a shiver runs through her down to her toes.

“I called the meeting, actually,” Mike says, and the rest of the party turn their heads to look at him, although judging by the look on Will's face Max suspects he'd already been looking at the taller boy before he'd spoken. “Max just spread the word. Albeit like a weirdo.”

“You did?” Dustin says curiously, while Max scowls at Mike. “Why?”

“I have to tell you all something,” Mike says, voice carrying like he's giving a class presentation, but his whole body relaxes when Will brushes his arm with an encouraging smile. “Well, Will and I have something to tell you,” he amends, flashing a smile down at the shorter boy.

“Your thing is just as important as ours," Will says quietly, brown eyes wide and only for Mike, and he wraps both his hands around one of Mike's clenched ones at his side.

Mike smiles down at him for a long moment, and it's as if the sharp edges of his gangly body soften as he drinks his boyfriend in. After a few silent beats he looks up at the rest of the party, straightening his shoulders like he does before ploughing his character heroically into battle in a Dungeons and Dragons game, and says, "You guys are my best friends, and I wanted to be sure before I said anything, but I want you to know. Now that I am. Sure, I mean. I've l always been able to tell you guys pretty much anything, and you've had my back no matter how messed up it's been, so I hope that won't change because of this. Because I don't think it's messed up. It feels pretty awesome, actually." Will squeezes his hand and he seems to come back to himself, clenching his jaw and darting his gaze between Dustin and Lucas with steely resolve. "I'm bisexual."

Max glances quickly at the two other boys; Lucas's eyebrows are so high up his forehead they almost reach his hairline, and Dustin is tilting his head, a curious look pinching his features as he meets Mike's eyes with bright interest. "Like Jane was talking about, liking more than one gender?" Dustin says. "How do you know?"

Lucas smacks his shoulder with the back of his hand, expression incredulous. "You can't just ask people that, wastoid."

"It's okay, that's what took me so long to figure it out, too," Mike says with a nervous shift of his feet. "Uh, it's complicated, but it got a lot clearer with... Some help." He glances down like he can't help it, and he and Will seem to get lost smiling at each other again.

"Oh," Lucas says with surprise in his voice, and the desk he's leaning against scrapes loudly enough against the floor with his shifting weight that Will and Mike jump.

"What?" Dustin says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Will? But Jane's the one who's actually met bisexual people."

Lucas spares him a long-suffering eyeroll before he turns and starts towards Mike with a reassuring smile on his face. "We've always got your back, Mike. I'm happy for you, both of you." He pulls Mike into a tight hug, and gives him an extra squeeze when Mike gives a strangled chuckle before releasing him to tug Will into their dorky back-slapping hug.

"Thanks, Lucas," Will says quietly, beaming at him as brightly as when he'd been gushing to Max when he steps out of his arms. "I knew you would be, but it's nice to hear. We didn't want to mess with the rules of law or party dynamics." He reaches out without taking his eyes off of Lucas's smiling ones for Mike's hand, and their fingers weave together like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Two other party members are already dating, and the party hasn't disintegrated around us," Lucas points out with a laugh. Jane tightens her arms around Max with a smile against her temple, and Max's heart gallops giddily in her chest.

"Wait, dating?" Dustin's whole body freezes mid-step, arms half-raised from his movement to hug Mike, and then he shoves Lucas to the side and scoops the other two boys into his arms, grinning widely. "Son of a bitch, nobody tells me anything. You two like each other? Since when?"

"I'm not sure," Mike says with a smile in his voice, ducking his head to press his blushing face into Dustin's shoulder. "That's what was so confusing. Probably always. It was there every time I saw him, I just didn't think about how different he was than anyone else because I was already so used to loving him."

Dustin backs away, and Max only gets the briefest glimpse of his pensive expression before he looks down at his feet. "Huh."

Jane thoroughly distracts her from his reaction by sliding one leg backwards so that she's no longer straddling her hips, and she can't hide the downturn of her lips when Jane flows off the desk gracefully to stand beside her. Jane's lips quirk up on one side in amusement, and Max is so mesmerized by the same heat in those beautiful eyes which is still crackling through every inch of her body which had been pressed against Jane's that she lets Jane take her hand and lead her over to their friends without resistance. Lucas smirks at her and scoops her up by the waist once she gets within arm's reach, trapping her in the middle of the crush of bodies as the party closes in for a group hug, but Jane keeps their hands firmly clasped together through the chaos and Max squeezes her fingers gratefully.

"Thank you, guys," Mike says quietly, voice muffled in the press of bodies around him. "Although I shouldn't have been worried, since the others did the hard work for me by coming out first," he jokes, and the party laughs.

"Doesn't make it any less stressful," Will says kindly.

"Yeah, we're all just cool with it because we were expecting the Mind Flayer," Dustin says, and Max feels Lucas reach out to poke him while everyone laughs again.

"What is Mind Flayer?" Jane says curiously. Max feels her fingers start to slip as she burrows into Will's arm around her waist, and she tightens her hold greedily.

"It's a D&D monster," Dustin says. "Hey, that's right, you haven't played D&D yet! Did you fill out a character sheet?"

"No," Jane says. "But I'm the mage."

"Yeah, but there's lots of other stuff to your character," Lucas says, voice rumbling comfortingly in Max's ear from where she has it pressed against his chest. "Rank and stats and stuff. Your mage is going to be different from other people's mages."

"Keep telling yourself that, Lord of the Rangers," Max teases, and laughs and squirms uselessly when he shoves his hands beneath the hem of her sweater to tickle her.

"We have lots of time over the Christmas holidays to build your character," Dustin says enthusiastically as the group steps backwards as one to get out of the line of fire from Max and Lucas's predictable tickle fight. "Mike'll walk you through it before we start playing."

"Yeah, we're pretty much going to be living at Mike's over the holiday, it's the best time to really get into a campaign since we won't have homework," Lucas says, and spins Max around once before releasing her back to Jane's waiting arms.

Max catches sight of Mike's face as she pads towards her girlfriend, and although he's not joining in on their excited chatter about the impending holiday she understands the soft gratefulness in his expression as he watches them, because she still catches herself feeling it even after all this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back!!! Summer holidays mean I can finally start to tackle the towering pile of stuff I've promised to work on aslghsjglsf;gh  
> This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful @malcolmx who leaves in-depth comments much smarter and more beautiful than the story it's written about!!! Thank you so much for reading, your encouragement makes me work harder to live up to the standards of your compliments!!!<3  
> Just a housekeeping note, the only feedback I'm hearing is that no one minds if I raise the rating, so please let me know if you've been following this story and are uncomfortable with it suddenly getting hot and heavy!!! I'll put warnings obviously but I could make a companion story for the messing around and stuff if you want the option to not read it, I just need to know within the next few chapters bc these girls don't want to hold out much longer ashglshjl;fl I'm sure no one cares about this as much as I do but I originally thought this would be ten chapters so it's changed a bit since I chose the rating!!!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you who thought last chapter was cheesy... hooo boy I'm sorry in advance aslgsajgl;gh

So lost in the hypnotizing rise and fall of Jane's ribcage with her gentle breathing, Max blinks heavily as if shaking herself out of a deep sleep at Dustin's stage-whisper from the floor. "Is she sleeping?"

Jane answers before Max can blink her way out of her daze. "No," she mumbles, and rubs her knuckles against one eye groggily.

"You're not watching," Dustin says, and if Max hadn't been so mesmerized by Jane's sleepy, reluctant movements she might have been upset about the accusation in his voice.

She swats out at him anyway, swinging the arm she has thrown over the dip of Jane's waist vaguely in the direction of his voice without taking her eyes off of the heart-stopping flutter of her girlfriend's eyelashes. "You try doing high school senior midterms as your first exams ever and see how exhausted you are," she retorts, but it's difficult to put any fire behind it when she gets to wrap her arm around Jane's waist again and pull her body flush against her own.

Jane wriggles backwards into her embrace with a small half-smile, and Max is certain the whole basement echoes with the galloping of her heart. "I'm watching," she says.

A booming clatter, followed by a chorus of drunken laughter, sounds from above them, and all six of them look up at the ceiling. The Wheelers threw an infamous holiday party for their neighborhood every year, and the group had learned at an early age to have their own gathering in the basement to avoid the hoards of adults letting a bit too lose with festive eggnog for comfort. Midterm exams have finally ended, Christmas is only a few days away, and Max is finally, finally able to ignore the world around her again and not even pretend to watch the cheesy Christmas television special the party is playing for Jane in favor of basking in her girlfriend's nearness. She had wrestled the couch away from Mike, who had mysteriously stopped complaining once Will had pulled him down into an armchair and curled up beside him, and she finds her eyes sliding back down irresistibly to Jane nestled back-to-front in her arms even as the rest of her friends keep staring up at the hammering footsteps from the adults on the ceiling. Exhausted from the stress of the reality of high school exams, Jane had not bothered with her usual intimidating clothes and smoky make-up for an evening hidden away with her friends, and Max is inordinately in love with how her soft, gel-less curls feel between her fingers.

Dustin is the second one to look away from the noises above them to Jane. He's sitting on the floor in front of the couch, surrounded by holiday pastries he and Lucas had stolen from the party upstairs. "Did you even see Rudolph's nose fall off?" he says.

"Leave her alone, Dustin," Lucas says lazily before Max can retort. He's lying on his stomach on the floor, feet waving aimlessly in the air as he also doesn't even pretend to pay attention to the movie while flipping through a college brochure. "She just finished exams, she doesn't need to be quizzed for thematic comprehension over her holidays, too."

"Rudolph is a classic," Dustin insists, turning towards Lucas and gesturing emphatically at the stop-motion reindeer on the screen. "An integral part of the holiday. She deserves the whole experience."

"She also deserves rest," Jane mumbles, and the rest of the party laughs.

Jane has never celebrated Christmas, or any holiday at all, between the lab and her wandering punk gang, and subsequently has never seen any movies or television specials that the rest of them took for granted. Max silently thinks that other holiday traditions might be slightly more important than children's movies everyone has seen so many times they usually end up playing in the background, but Jane had been invited to the evening celebrations with the Byers during Hanukkah, and Chief Hopper claimed to be at least attempting to cook turkey breasts and potatoes for them on Christmas day, so Max isn't too upset with the part of the holidays she got to expose her girlfriend to ended up with Jane lying in her arms. At the thought of showing Jane holiday traditions she feels the tiny square box in her back pocket practically burning a hole through her jeans, and she tightens the arm around Jane's waist reflectively as her stomach flutters with a fresh wave of nerves.

Jane turns her head at the squeeze, and a lazy smile pulls at her naked lips as her breathtaking eyes flicker over Max's face. Her short brown curls tumble over both of their faces to tickle Max's bared forearm, and awe settles over every inch of Max's skin like starlight. "Are you watching?" she whispers.

Max swallows, throat as raw as her overloaded emotions. "I don't need to," she whispers back. "Even if I hadn't seen it before, Christmas specials are the most predictable things ever."

Jane grins, full and wicked as she adjusts her weight a bit to lean sinfully further back into Max's body. "Really?" she murmurs, starlit eyes dropping to Max's lips. "How?"

"They're all the same, you can watch the next one," Max says breathlessly, and leads Jane's lips to hers with a hand on her cheek. Jane giggles quietly into her kiss and shifts her hips, rolling her body over fully to face Max as she meets the kiss eagerly. Every inch of Max's body which brushes Jane's lights up with spider legs of electricity like a Tesla ball, and her fingers and toes curl at the intoxicating sensation as she pulls Jane closer greedily. Jane sighs and sucks Max's bottom lip between both of hers, and the brilliant, awe-inspiring galaxies inside of Jane burst behind Max's eyelids as she feels the chapped patches and smooth curves of Jane's lips slide along her own.

She's brought crashing back down to Earth by Dustin's equally annoyed and annoying voice. "Damn it, Max, we're trying to give her the Christmas experience, here!"

"Looks like she's having a merry little Christmas from here," Lucas says, sounding amused as his foot nudges Max's on the couch suggestively. Max takes a tender moment to ease away from Jane's lips before she sits up in a flurry of mussed red hair and grabs the throw pillow at the end of the couch to whack him with. Lucas laughs and ducks out her line of fire, scuttling away on his backside as he searches blindly behind him for a pillow to retaliate, and the rest of their friends groan as one.

Max is pressing Lucas's pillow into his face with her own pillow when a soft knock sounds at the basement door and familiar steps start on the stairs. Lucas takes advantage of her distraction to knock the pillow out of her hands, and Jonathan laughs louder than any of them when he reaches the bottom of the stairs and grins around at all of them. "Good to know some things never change," he says, winking at Max before he turns to watch Jane lean her head on the redhead's shoulder. "Sorry, Jane, but Chief Hopper asked me to come down and give you a fifteen-minute warning."

He holds up his hands in supplication at their chorus of protests. "Don't shoot the messenger, I'm just here to get a brief reprieve from the drunk fourty-year-olds," he says, and then slides his eyes hesitantly to his brother. "Although we should probably start thinking about hitting the road, too, buddy."

"That's not fair," Mike says loudly, while Lucas and Dustin boo Jonathan and throw roasted chestnuts from their stolen pile of food.

Jonathan laughs, holding his arms in front of his face even though none of the chestnuts end up anywhere near him. "Hey, you abandoned me with the boring adults! I should be booing _you_."

"You can come hang out with us if Will can stay longer," Mike says quickly. His arm tightens around Will's shoulders, and Will's blush only accentuates his pleased expression.

"And bring us some eggnog," Dustin adds.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Jonathan says, pointing at Dustin, before turning back to his brother. His expression softens a bit, and his eyes flicker between Will and Mike before he says, "Fine, you guys get one hour. And you're explaining to Mom if she stays up waiting for us. Wish I could do the same for you," he adds to Jane, smiling a bit apologetically.

Jane smiles back at him. Jonathan had practically adopted Jane from the moment he had met her, more enthusiastic about her bootlegged music and punk attitude and carefully-tailored stories of wandering the country before her life in Hawkins than Max had seen him be enthused about anything, except possibly making Will smile, and Jane seems to enjoy having a new friend who wanted to learn about her strange life experience as much as she did about theirs. "It's okay," she says softly.  
Jonathan grins at her before surveying the room with a mock-serious expression. "You get one hour, use it wisely," he says, and then turns with a wave and jogs back up the stairs.

Jane sighs and sits up straight, stretching her arms above her head with a little yawn. Max's heart flutters, mirroring the panic in her stomach, and she drops her pillow and grips Jane's hand before she can think when Jane starts to rise. “He said fifteen minutes,” she says, too quickly.

Jane smiles down at her, soft and open and so effortlessly breathtaking Max barely notices when hers is stolen at the sight, and weaves their fingers together properly. “Walk me up?” she says quietly.

“Yeah, of course,” Max says, frizzing strands of red hair falling into her line of vision as she shoots to her feet so quickly she has a moment where she doesn't know whether her watery knees will support her weight. Luckily the boys are distracted by their group hug as they crowd around her to say goodbye and tousle her curls playfully, but Max is still blushing when she breaks away from their friends reluctantly and leads the way up the basement stairs.

The party is still in full swing when they reach the top of the stairs, the floor vibrating with the music and seemingly hundreds of feet stomping and dancing on the hardwood floors, but Jane leads her silently around the corner away from the noise to the side door. She drops Max's hand to start shrugging on her leather jacket, and Max can't help but smile as she sees how she struggles to get the well-worn, punk jacket over the knitted Christmas sweater she's wearing.

“Did Hopper get you that for Christmas?” Max asks, entertaining herself for a moment by picturing Chief Hopper sorting through racks of hideous festive sweaters in the girls's section.

Jane glances up at her and smiles, and Max is feverishly grateful it's only a moment because she's temporarily blinded by the sudden flash of beauty and she's not sure what her face is doing. “Flo,” she says, and then adds, at Max's confused expression, “from the police station.”

“Oh,” Max says, because Jane is carefully adjusting a striped cap with a dangling puffball over her weightless curls and she seems to have lost the power of speech. She swallows and manages, “Has Flo from the police station only heard tell of you from Chief Hopper's stories?”

Jane meets her eyes and grins crookedly, as radiant as the sun, and Max can only burn up willingly in her constellations of stars as she steps too close to be passed off as friendly by outside observers and takes both of Max's hands in hers. “No,” she says, so softly Max can barely hear her over the party raging around the corner and the ringing in her own ears. “She's my friend. But she says everyone should have an ugly holiday sweater. So I like it. When I'm with my friends and don't need my clothes and make-up.”

Max makes a conscious effort to swallow a comment about Jane never needing clothes around her. “Because we know you're a badass already?” she says instead, because even though her mind is currently melting under the heat of Jane's thousands of suns down to join the liquid heat pooling in her belly, she's fairly certain Jane is trying to say something meaningful.

One side of Jane's naked lips twitches upwards and she blushes, sharp cheekbones glowing as natural as a summer sunset under the dim florescent of the hallway lamp, and Max has a disorienting moment of weightlessness when she feels herself fall in love with Jane all over again. “Yes,” Jane says. “I like my look, it's... armour.” She bites the permanent indent in her lower lip and tilts her head, as if considering if this is the right word.

“That makes sense,” Max says, squeezing her hands reassuringly, and smiles when Jane squeezes back. “But you're right, you don't need your armor around any of us. Especially me.”

Jane smiles at her sweetly, and she's so enraptured she tries to keep her eyes open for as long as possible when Jane leans in to kiss her. Her eyelids do flutter shut of their own accord when their lips touch, though, and she lets out a shaky sigh as they kiss, long and hot and decadently slow as they take their time drinking in the feeling. Jane draws back after a gloriously heated pause, and Max is dangerously close to letting the no-clothing comment escape her parted lips when the taller girl looks down and takes one of her hands away.

“I got you a present,” Jane says quietly, and pulls a colorfully-wrapped square box out of her jacket pocket.

Max snaps back to herself guiltily, and she accidentally yanks her captive hand back from Jane's to grub around her own back pockets before she can think better of it. “Oh! I did, too. I had it all day, but, uh, the boys were there.” She makes a face and holds out the tiny box, certain Jane can feel the heat of her intense blush even though they're no longer touching.

Jane only smiles, taking Max's little package from her hand and replacing it with her own. "I've never bought presents before," she says quietly, and her starlight eyes flicker down at the gift a bit uncertainly. "I saw it and thought of you, and I hoped it would make you think about me, too."

Max smiles at her nervousness, resisting the urge to kiss it away in favor of beginning to peel the wrapping paper apart. "Well, you're probably safe there, because I'm pretty much always thinking about you," she says, and basks in the glow of Jane's little answering smile from beneath her lashes as she keeps her eyes on the present she's unwrapping. Her fingers shake as she pulls back the colorful paper to see the label on the little square box, and her heart throws itself shamelessly against her ribs, unable to bear being so far away from where it belongs, when she hurriedly yanks open the box and pulls out the miniature plasma ball.

"Like the one at the museum," Jane says, like she's worried Max won't remember, watching as the other girl turns the miniature over in wonder. "The clerk said it wasn't as powerful, but it still lights up when you touch. No static for your hair, but electricity." She pokes it lightly with one delicate finger, and the globe sizzles and flashes with blue lightening.

Max runs her free hand over her helpless grin, watching the electricity crackle inside the globe like she feels it across her whole body. "Jane, this is -" She doesn't have the words for what this is, what is means to her that their day at the museum had meant something significant to Jane, too, so she lowers her free hand to press the tip of her own finger against the ball opposite from Jane. The finger of lightening finds hers, and she swears she can feel the electricity passing from Jane's touch to hers across the plasma globe through the sizzling symphony of lights. "This is amazing," she whispers, and the plasma globe bursts with light when Jane brightens before she seems to realize what she's done and bites her lip until the lights dim just a bit. "Spending time with you, getting to know you and make you laugh. even before I knew you could ever want me... I'm glad you remembered it, because I still think about it all the time."

The plasma ball shines blue and purple, illuminating Jane's breath-taking smile, and Max can't help but take her hand away from the globe to cup her blushing cheek, dizzily admiring the faint pink in the plasma's colorful glow. "Still don't know how it affects gelled hair, though," she says, stupidly, because she's already leaning in to kiss Jane and she's fairly certain that she left any thoughts she may have had behind when Jane drew her out of reality into her own galaxy of blue lightening and impossible happiness.

Jane kisses her sweetly, the plasma ball still crackling with light even when she raises both hands to weave through the hair at Max's temples, but she pauses and breaks away when the present in her hand scrapes against the side of Max's head. She snickers a bit, husky and breathless, and Max has to make a conscious effort to get ahold of herself and not pull her back into another kiss greedily when she ducks her head to start peeling the corners of the wrapping paper delicately.

"I'm glad it was a proper present," Jane says, glancing up shyly from beneath her thick lashes as she slides her finger along the seam of the wrapping paper like she's afraid to rip it.

Max licks her lips to give herself a moment, which turns out to be a mistake because her mouth tastes like Jane and it makes her head spins dangerously. "Yeah, you're better at giving presents than a lot of people who have been doing it their whole lives," she says breathily, and Jane's snicker as she finally, carefully slides the wrapping off the box and lifts the lid makes her heart turn over giddily in her chest.

Her earlier anxiety comes back in full force to grip her stomach painfully when those dark eyes run curiously over the contents of the little box. Jane's present had been heartfelt and personal, a physical reminder of a moment special to them, and although Max had worried earlier that her gift would be too presumptuous, now she had a conflicting worry that it wouldn't be enough. "It's a necklace," she blurts out, and then winces, because obviously, Max, but mercifully Jane smiles at her and carefully slides her pointer and middle fingers beneath the rainbow tail of the shooting star charm and lifts it from the box to examine with bright interest. Max continues, "I, uh - continuing in the vein of 'I saw it and thought of you,' I guess -" Jane snickers, running her thumb over the raised lines on the tail of the comet, and Max ploughs forward, bolstered - "The chain is long enough that you can hide it under your clothes, if you want, but like you were saying earlier about armor, I thought you could have something of mine that you never have to take off, so that - it sucks, not getting to hold your hand and stuff at school and in public anywhere, and I wanted you to have something that always shows you how beautiful and special you are to me. Something just you and I would get." She purses her lips to force them shut, blushing with her whole body as she tries to swallow the rambling explanation about stars and galaxies on the tip of her tongue.

She's so busy begging herself to stop talking she doesn't notice the lights until they buzz so ominously she looks up without thinking. The hallway lamp is so bright the bulb fizzles with the power of it, but it is nothing compared to Jane's expression, blinding with the power of her countless suns behind her smile, and Max blinks dazedly as the other girl holds out the little charm and turns just slightly. "Put it on me?" she whispers.

Max nods, taking the necklace mindlessly as Jane flashes her another brilliant smile and turns away with a swish of her glossy curls. Fumbling awkwardly with sweaty fingers, Max tries to fasten the clasp around Jane's neck still half-blind. Being so close to Jane cloying, earthy scent, her flushed skin and weightless curls near enough that it would take less effort to press her lips to them than is it not to, doesn't exactly make her task any easier, and by the time she finally has the delicate chain secured around Jane's neck she barely gives her girlfriend time to turn around and face her fully before she's cupping her cheek and kissing her greedily.

Jane only presses closer, sliding her arms over Max's shoulders to lock elbows behind her head and kissing her back with abandon. She tilts her head, sliding her top lip between both of Max's luxuriously slowly, and Max can't help but groan, fire blazing from where her lips meet Jane's and across her whole body. Everything about her feels slow and sluggish, melting under the heat of Jane's constellations, and she can only chase her girlfriend's lips, trailing saliva over her wanting mouth as she takes the lead. When Jane's tongue sweeps over her bottom lip her gasp is choked by her heart's attempt to escape through her throat, and Jane nuzzles her nose with a little lick to her upper lip before she kisses her hard and searing and begins walking her backwards.  
Max is grateful when Jane presses her possessively against the wall, for a lot of reasons but mostly because she isn't sure if her watery knees will hold her up any longer, and she meets Jane's tongue with her own this time when it slips into her mouth with her next kiss. The miniature slips ominously in her sweaty fingers when she wraps her arms around Jane's waist, but she hurriedly stuffs it into her hoodie pocket and arches up into Jane's mouth when the other girl hesitates as if she's going to pull away. Jane sucks her swollen bottom lip between both of her own and breaks away anyway, trailing burning kisses along the corner of her mouth before leaning forward with her forearms framing Max's flushed face to press her panting mouth against the shorter girl's ear. "Thank you," she whispers, and then lunges back to cover Max's moan with a deep, searing kiss.

Max grips the back of Jane's jacket, sweat-slicked fingers slipping as desperately over the supple leather as her saliva-slicked mouth slips over Jane's, and she's just managed to crush their chests together in a way which makes her vision go white when Jane gasps wetly and pulls away from her, panting heavily as she darts out of Max's grasp. Max is too slow to react, arms dropping heavily to her sides when the other girl escapes them even as her body arches forward searching for Jane's searing heat, and it's only the blurry figure rounding the corner with a familiar deep frown already on his face that can drop her from flying, weightless, in Jane's galaxy and back to Earth.

“What do you two think you're doing?” Chief Hopper says suspiciously, glaring between their blushing faces.

“Exchanging gifts,” Jane says, and then clears her throat.

Chief Hopper _harrumphs_ and narrows his eyes. “As long as that's all you're exchanging.”

Max lets out a shuddering breath and resists the urge to cover her burning face with her hands. Jane sighs and shuffles towards Chief Hopper as he pulls his coat from the rack next to the door, and a flutter of a memory somewhere deep in the clouded mind brings Max back to herself enough to remember something besides Jane's lips on hers.

“Sir, I wanted to revisit -” she starts.

“No, Max,” Chief Hopper says, voice heavy with a thousand years of weariness.

“But New Years is only a week away -” she presses on, even when he turns his back to her and begins stuffing one of his feet into his lace-up police issued boot.

“I said no,” he says, angling his shoulder away from Jane when she leans against the wall beside him with a disapproving frown.

“It's just like with Christmas, the group wants her to have the full experience of the holiday -”

“No, Max.”

“An experience which just happens to involve being together for midnight -”

“What part of _no_ isn't working for you?”

“Which, as you know, as an officer of the law, it would be too dangerous to drive on New Years after midnight anyway -”

“Still no.”

“So sleeping over would actually be the safer option -”

“Nooo.”

“Not only would all five of the friends you know be there, but Jonathan, a responsible adult -”

“No.”

“- would be with us the entire time -”

“No.”

“- including the sleep-over part, which is for practical reasons only -”

“No.”

“- and Ms. Byers will be in the house -”

“No.”

“- and she specifically invited Jane -”

“No.”

“ - and you, sir, to chaperone with her.”

“N -” Chief Hopper freezes and looks over his shoulder at her sharply, eyebrows practically at his hairline. Heart hammering painfully in her chest, Max tries to keep her face neutral as she meets his eyes with as much innocence as she can muster with Jane's taste still on her tongue.

“She hosts us every year, but usually she only has Jonathan to help her out,” she ploughs on, trying not to sound as breathless as she feels as he slowly turns towards her with furrowed brows. “She said she'd welcome some adult company.”  
Chief Hopper narrows his eyes at her suspiciously, and she adds hurriedly, “To – to supervise. Because Mike is staying over, too. And she wants Jane to be part of the fun.”

Hopper's face relaxes a bit at that; ever since the younger girl had saved Will from Troy, Mrs. Byers has gone out of her way to make sure Jane got to experience every kind of joy she had missed during childhood, and Hopper seems all too happy to let her, which had spawned the plot for New Years, although this had involved much more begging and wheedling by the party to Mrs. Byers than Max is currently letting on. Stomach twisting with a mix of anxiousness and cautious hope, Max watches as the chief rubs the premature lines on his forehead with his thumb and then turns to stuff his other foot into his boot, heaving a heavy, long-suffering sigh.

"I will call Ms. Byers and discuss this offer after Christmas," he says, and rolls his eyes when the girls exchange bright grins. "This isn't a yes," he adds, watching Max out of the corner of his eye as he opens the side door for Jane.

It's not a no, either, and Max struggles to rearrange her expression into something other than glee as she reaches out to squeeze Jane's hand when she passes in the way to the door.

"I love you," she breathes, and Jane turns mid-step to beam at her.

"Careful, girls," Chief Hopper says under his breath, glancing over his shoulder at the corner separating them from the roaring crowd.

Jane rolls her eyes at him and returns Max's squeeze before pulling her hand away reluctantly. "Merry Christmas, Max," she whispers, and her eyes are brighter than every star in the clear winter night as she slips under Chief Hopper's arm and out the door.

"Merry Christ - " Max calls, but Chief Hopper slams the door behind him before she can finish. "- mas," she mumbles under her breath, but even their abrupt exit can't quell the lingering heat from Jane still crackling beneath her skin, and she grins foolishly at the closed door for a long moment, letting herself burn up in it.

She takes out her miniature plasma ball and presses one finger against the glass, and her smile only grows impossibly wider when the globe flashes with one last bolt of electricity before it goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas in June??? This story is so out of sync ahglsfhfjskf;gf I'm really sorry guys I thought I'd be updating more now that it's summer!!! Who wants to choke my writer's block for meee  
> This chapter is dedicated to sunsetozier who leaves THE ultimate sweet and supportive comments, not only do they make me so happy when I post a chapter they bolster me when I think about it when I'm writing and getting discouraged!!! Thank you for reading!!!<3


	28. Chapter 28

Groaning, Max pauses to make sure her grinning father sees the look on her face before she dunks the plate she's scrubbing beneath the suds again. "Bing Crosby, Dad? Seriously?"

"Hey, this is a Christmas classic," her father laughs, flipping the dish towel he's using to dry her clean dishes over his shoulder. They've just finished Christmas dinner, a few days late because Neil had declared that she should be with her mother on the actual holiday and nobody argued with Neil, even from several states over, so she had flown down to California to have what her father referred to as "Boxing day dinner" to spend a precious few days with him before she went back to Hawkins for New Years. Her visits with her father seemed to get shorter and shorter every year, but, as wistfully as she stares now out the open kitchen window a the clear California sky just starting to show a hint of pink with the impending sunset, she finds for the first time in her life she'd left her heart in Hawkins when she'd come to California instead of the other way around.

The thought makes her glance at the clock, and the plate she's swishing around underwater slips out of her hands as panic grips the space in her chest where her aforementioned heart used to be. She looks up at her father hurriedly, and he's already smirking, setting a stack of clean cutlery into a drawer as he watches her out of the corner of his eye. "Go ahead," he says, the long-suffering edge in his voice belied by his grin.

"It's just that they're three hours ahead," she says breathlessly, already drying her hands on a dish towel before he'd finished talking. "So I have to call before it's too late."

"Uh huh," her father says, eyeing her suspiciously as he moves to take her place in front of the sink. "Convenient how 'too late' for your friends always seems to end up being after dinner but before the dishes are done."

"You can leave the rest for me," Max says quickly. She glances at the clock again and turns on her heel in a great whirlwind of hair, propelled forward by the longing already tugging her towards the telephone like a magnet.

"I approve of this secret boyfriend if he makes you this generous!" her father calls after her as she rushes out of the kitchen, anticipation pounding like a heartbeat in her stomach.

"I told you, I don't have a boyfriend!" Max yells back, and stuffs down the guilty flutter in her chest as she hears his laugh echo through the apartment. "Don't listen on the line!" she adds, and kicks the door shut as she pounces onto the bed.

She forces herself to lie back on the mattress as she waits for the telephone to connect, but her foot still jiggles impatiently as she listens to the trilling line. Her father only allows her to make long-distance calls in the evening, when he won't be charged, and Chief Hopper won't let Jane onto the phone if she calls too late for his personal liking, so she has to wait all day to talk to Jane for only a few, shining moments every evening. She misses Jane in everything she does, and despite already having a sunburn after only being there two days, she only feels like she's stepped into the sun once she hears Jane's voice on the other end of the line.

As if summoned by the thought, the phone stops ringing abruptly and familiar warmth spreads across Max's skin at the tail-end of her name over the crackling line. "-x?"

Max grins, closing her eyes and letting the glowing sunset burn behind her eyelids. Jane still hasn't quite gotten the hang of answering phones, never having lived in one place long enough to use one before - Lucas had told Max that when she wasn't anticipating Max's call she answered with a baffled, "Yes?" - and it's one of the countless little things about her that Max hopes she never corrects. "Hey, Jane," she says, with a bit more wistfulness in her voice than is warranted.

"Max," Jane says, and the smile in her voice is so distinct Max can see it against the backdrop of her eyelids. Her belly twists automatically, and she squirms a bit on the bed without meaning to. "Hi."

"Hi," Max says, and then realizes she's said that already and grimaces at herself. She opens her eyes and watches the pinks and oranges play across the ceiling above her, twisting the phone cord around one finger. "You got time to talk?"

"Yes," Jane says. They had set up an approximate time for Max to call every day before she'd left, so Jane always has time to talk when she calls, but Max doesn't want to assume Jane waits on tenterhooks to hear from her every day like she herself does, so she likes to ask. "I made sure to be home," Jane adds.

The spot where her heart used to be flutters and swells blissfully, and she can't help her soft smile. "Oh, yeah? Hope I didn't interrupt anything fun."

"No," Jane says. "It was fun, but you didn't interrupt. I went to Mike's and saw our friends.”

For some reason it makes Max smile that Jane refers to the boys as  _our friends_. “A party gathering, that's fun,” Max says, pulling her long hair out from underneath her neck to pile it on the mattress behind her head.

“No,” Jane says pointedly.

Max has to swallow a laugh so that Jane doesn't think she's making fun of her. “Well, a partial party gathering,” she amends, and she feels Jane's hum of affirmation wash over her body down to her curling toes. Now that she's allowed to say it, she has the almost overwhelming urge to say  _I love you_  after little things Jane does or says which should be innocuous but end up shaking her to her very core, and she finds herself dizzily trying to find her way back to the thread of conversation. “What did you guys do?”

“Mike helped me make my mage character,” Jane says. “And Will drew her.”

“That's awesome, you're officially part of our legends now,” Max says, and basks in Jane's snicker. “I can't wait to see it. Is it on your character sheet?”

“No, he said it was an official portrait,” Jane says, and Max can't help her besotted smile at the pride in her girlfriend's voice. “It's in the binders we saw at Halloween.”

“Hmm,” Max says, and then blushes brighter than the pink sunset and rolls over so that she stops picturing kissing Jane in her cloak on Halloween. “I mean, cool. Can't wait until we actually get to go on adventures so Will has something to illustrate with all of us in it. How did you roll?”

“I don't know,” Jane says. “I didn't know what the numbers meant for the first rolls. Mike made me roll again three times.”

“Yeah, he'll do that when you get too low a number,” Max explains. “Just when you're making your character, the rolls in gameplay are generally law. There's no point if you have, like, a two in one of your categories, it makes your character unplayable.”

“Oh,” Jane says. She hesitates, and then says, much more quietly, “I moved the dice. With my powers.”

Max laughs, surprised. “Seriously? To get better numbers?”

“Yes,” Jane says, and she sounds embarrassed now. “I got four eighteens.”

Max bursts out laughing, covering her face with one sweaty palm. “Oh my god,” she says. “Please tell me Mike let you keep them.”

“Yes,” Jane says, and Max cackles so hard she curls into a ball on the bed, holding her stomach with one arm as the other presses the phone receiver into her ear so hard it aches a bit. “They were excited, but I just didn't want to roll any more,” Jane says, and there's a bit of a smile in her voice now as she listens to Max howl with laughter into the phone.

“Oh, shit, Jane,” Max says, and then hiccups, presumably because her chest so full to busting with Jane's light that she can't catch her breath. “That's so awesome.”

“Fucking hilarious,” Jane says smugly.

Max laughs again, swiping a hand across her foolish grin. “Yeah, you are,” she agrees. “And fucking awesome.”

She can definitely hear the smile in Jane's voice now. “You're awesome.”

Stupidly, the memory of her heart starts pounding so wildly in her chest that her ears ring with it. “Fucking awesome, though?” she jokes.

“Fucking awesome,” Jane agrees, and Max has to cover her wide, stupid grin with her arm to muffle the embarrassing giggle bubbling up from her too-full chest.

She rolls onto her back, phone sliding in her slippery hand as she grins up at the ceiling. "An important distinction," she says, mock-serious, and closes her eyes as Jane's snicker lights up every inch of her skin like a plasma ball. She shifts her hips restlessly and turns her face towards the window, letting the fiery sunset burn through her eyelids. "What else did you guys do?"

"Ate pizza," Jane says. "Mrs. Wheeler made me Eggos."

Max laughs, remembering the conversation she'd overheard in the supermarket before she'd even dreamed this conversation was a possibility. "You like breakfast for dinner, hmm? More than pizza?"

"I ate pizza too," Jane says, and they snicker together. "Hop says that, too. I don't understand why Eggos are only for breakfast."

"They're not, grown-ups are just small-minded," Max says, mostly just to make Jane laugh again. Longing swells in her chest when Jane complies, so sudden and overwhelming she rolls onto her stomach to catch her breath. "I should take you to Benny's when I get home, his Belgian waffles will blow your mind," she says, trying to latch onto the idea to relieve the strangling pressure in her chest.

"I like Benny," Jane says with a smile in her voice. "He's friends with Hop."

"Damn, you've already been to Benny's?" Max teases. "There goes one of four date destinations in Hawkins."

"We can still go," Jane says, amused.

"Yeah, but I was going to be the one to introduce you to his Belgian waffles," Max says, throwing one arm heavily across her eyes as she tries to picture Jane's sunlit smile behind her closed eyelids. "You'd  _have_  to fall in love with me if I brought that kind of awesomeness into your life."

"I'm already in love with you," Jane says with a little laugh, like it's so obvious she shouldn't even be saying it.

The pressure in Max's chest releases all at once painfully like a deep exhale, and her next words escape with it before she can stop them. "God, I miss you so much."

She blushes fiercely, even though Jane can't see her. She's been trying to keep her misery to herself during their phone calls, because, more than missing Jane like she can't quite get enough air into her lungs even when she breathes so deeply as she walks beside the crashing ocean she loves so much her senses burn with the salt, every twinge reminds her that, although this was only for a few days, the heavy absence of Jane would be permanent once she moved to California. She's been stubbornly trying not to think about it, because she's going to the university of her dreams and she can't resent Jane's future plans when she's only trying to survive, but even with this very reasonable justification she can't help but notice on this trip that even the the relentless California sun can't seem to warm her skin the way Jane's starlit eyes do.

Jane's sigh over the phone crackles in her ear. "I miss you, too," she says quietly. "Three days."

Max smiles, despite her hopeless worry about the future. "Two days, really, since today's pretty much done," she points out. "So we're almost there."

"Almost," Jane echoes, but her voice is still quiet.

"Never thought I'd be looking forward to school in Hawkins when I'm on the beach," Max jokes, and the memory of her heart flutters at Jane's reluctant snicker. "I'm trying to focus on having fun, but even when I'm doing my favorite things in the world, it would be better if you were here."

She doesn't mean for it to come out as serious as it does, her hopeless attempt at flirting somehow ending up revealing her deep-set anxieties when she's just trying to make Jane smile again, but Jane only hums, the phone crackling and fuzzing a bit over the sound. "Maybe I could be," she says thoughtfully.

Max tries to laugh, but it's strangled painfully in her too-tight chest. "Um, I doubt Chief Hopper is going to be too enthusiastic about you jumping on a plane across the country this late at night."

"No," Jane says, and the smile is back in her voice. "But I can find you. In the void."

Max raises her eyebrows. "Um. The what?"

"I can find people," Jane explains. "With my powers. It works better in the bathtub, but I know where you are so I should be able to find you."

Max's eyebrows brush the forearm still flung across her face as they shoot up to her hairline. "I - You find people in the bathtub?" she says, voice suddenly strangled for a new reason.

"Not here," Jane says absently, and Max can hear her rustling around through the crackling phone line. "They had a big bathtub at the lab. To find strangers. But I can still do it, with the TV or radio. I visit Kali sometimes."

"Wait, so you -" Max's mind is whirling, trying to piece together the bits of information Jane is throwing at her into a full picture, and the ghost of her heart lifts as she thinks of the superhero comics she's listened to the boys shout about for years. "You can astral project yourself?"

The rustling on the telephone line stops. "Astral?" Jane says curiously. "I don't know."

"Like, project yourself into my head," Max says eagerly. She lowers her arm from her eyes and props her weight up on her elbows, looking around the bedroom in case she's missing Jane's image in front of her. "Is it like a hologram? Can you talk telepathically? Come watch the sunset with me."

"Not in your head," Jane says, a bit apologetically. "I can hear you, but I can't talk to you or touch you. Kali says she can feel me with her."

This seems like a stupidly arbitrary set of rules to Max, but she wants to feel anything of Jane on her star-starved skin so badly she doesn't feel like arguing semantics. "Okay," she says, pinning the receiver between her shoulder and cheek so that she can sit up fully on the bed. "Do I need to do anything?"

"We have to hang up the phone," Jane says. "So I can concentrate. But that's it. If you don't feel anything after five minutes, call me back."

"Okay," Max says again, breathless. "See you soon. Well, not see you, I guess, but - this is so cool, Jane, your powers keep getting even more awesome."

"Thank you," Jane says, and Max can hear the pleased little smile in her voice. "Wait," she adds, and then hangs up abruptly.

Max exhales a breathy little laugh and hangs up her phone, too. Her stomach flutters with nervous energy, and she finds herself running her fingers through her long hair like she's getting ready for a first date in a teen movie before she rolls her eyes at herself and wraps her arms around her knees pointedly. She stares around the room expectantly, even though Jane had said she wouldn't be able to see anything; she isn't quite sure what's supposed to be happening, or what Jane means by being able to "feel" her, and she doesn't want to miss even the faintest glimpse of Jane after so many days without her.

But then she feels it, and it's not faint at all; Jane's presence spreads over her skin like starlight, as bright and warm and intoxicating as when she's wrapped in her arms, and her whole body flushes at the sensation. She can't help but laugh, the nervous energy in her stomach growing to crackle over every inch of her like it always does at the slightest touch from Jane, and she feels strangely shy as she pulls her frizzing waves of hair out of her face, eyes darting around the room even though she knows she won't see anything. "Jane?" she whispers, although she's not entirely sure why she's lowering her voice.

Her bedside lamp flickers on and off, and another laugh bursts out of her, as bright and overwhelming as Jane's power around her. She's not sure where to look, so she stares down at her hands, unable to do anything about the foolish smile on her face with Jane's countless suns warming her skin again, finally, finally. "You're amazing," she says, watching the glowing sunset play across her tanned fingers with wonder. "This is - What  _is_  this? I can't believe you're here."

Her skin prickles with the other girl's overwhelming presence, but she doesn't answer, and Max starts to feel self-conscious just talking to her hands. She blushes with her whole body, letting her long hair tumble down to hide her face as she shifts awkwardly on the bed, and she scrambles in her clouded mind for something to say that wouldn't sound foolish when Jane couldn't answer. "Um, this might be your coolest power yet," she says, lifting her face to cast her smile around the room. She keeps instinctively trying to find Jane's vantage point, since she'd said she could "see," but her presence seems to fill the entire room and she feels like she should be spinning in circles, chasing the tease of the girl she loves just outside her peripheral vision. "Although I say that about all of them, I guess. I wish I could still talk to you, but this..." She shakes her head and looks down at her knees, letting Jane's gravity pull the wide, helpless smile out of her. "I hope you can feel me like I feel you, because it's amazing."

The lamp flickers again, and she laughs, tucking a stand of her hair behind her ear as she sweeps her eyes over the room again longingly. "I don't know how long you can do this, but - if it doesn't, like, hurt you, stay with me, okay? Just for as long as you can."

Goosebumps spread over her forearm, like a warm wind is blowing over her skin, and she covers her giddy smile with one sweaty palm. Shaking slightly, she eases herself down onto the mattress, curling up on her side with her face to the window the way she had with Jane on the Wheeler's couch only a few days ago. Every inch of her skin burns individually with the heat of Jane's suns, like she's touching every cell of her at once, and even with the telling shallowness of her breaths, she feels her chest move freely for the first time since she'd stepped off the plane in California.

She watches the brilliant pinks and oranges inch across the sky outside her window, and even once she feels the last of the familiar warmth leech from her skin, the smile stays on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to @an_idiot_lesbian who made the very first Constellations fanart way back in the day before I even started dedications!!! i don't know if you're still here but I still think about that when I feel like I should stop writing and it keeps me going so thank you for sharing it with me, you said this fic inspired it but plot twist you continue to inspire me!!!  
> If I don't answer comments tonight I'll do it tomorrow, sorry I am the literal worst I don't know why I'm feeling so unmotivated to write but I love anybody still reading this!!!<3


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long!!! I was on holiday and this took a lot longer than I thought. Everybody who's waiting on requests from me I'm really sorry, I promise I'm working away at them!!!<3

For what Dustin lacked in gaming skills, Max muses as she keeps her narrowed eyes locked on her avatar racing across the glowing screen even as an obnoxious nudge to her shoulder threatens to knock her off-balance, he made up for in trash talk.

"Hope you're not too full from a steady diet of my dust to eat _shit_ , Mayfield!" he crows, leaning his body weight into her as he smashes the buttons on his controller.

Max stays silent as she expertly navigates her avatar through the maze on the screen, but she doesn't try to hide her smug smile when her character lands on his character's head as she passes him to take the lead and their friends laugh around them. "What was that about eating dust?" she teases, nudging her elbow into his side without breaking her steady gaze on the game in front of them.

The party and Jonathan are taking turns playing video games while they wait for the Hoppers to join them for their New Years Eve party at the Byers's house. Although Chief Hopper still hadn't relented on his stance about sleep-overs, he had agreed to allow Jane to stay until he had to start his shift at two in the morning when the bars closed, which was later than the party fell asleep anyway, and Max is currently trying and failing to put her nervous, crackling energy at the thought of pyjamas and sleepy kisses into the racing game she's currently winning embarrassingly effortlessly.

"Shit, shit shit," Dustin complains, tilting his whole body with the dramatic turn his avatar is making as he rushes to catch up with her. "Laugh it up, because your Mario world is about to become a world of pain when I get through with you."

Max grins and opens her mouth to answer, but Chief Hopper's deep voice rumbles from somewhere in the house and her head whips around at the sound. Heart suddenly fluttering madly in her throat, her fingers slip over the buttons on the controller as her eyes dart around the room expectantly, and she doesn't remember what she was doing until the game makes a sad 8-bit noise and the boys burst out laughing.

She spins back around towards the screen in a flurry of hair almost as red as her face, rapidly pressing buttons even as she watches the doorway to the kitchen out of the corner of her eye. "Fuck you, I can beat you with my eyes closed," she snaps, a bit more defensively than she means to.

Dustin's amused retort, along with the rest of the Byers's living room, fades away all at once when the kitchen lights catch on familiar gelled hair and she turns irresistibly to see Jane standing in the doorway, beaming in every sense of the word as her hopeful eyes land on the group. She's so impossibly beautiful with her thick, mascaraed eyelashes glittering with snow and her little upturned nose glowing red with the cold through her make-up, and Max doesn't realize the crescendo of the rapid-fire, victorious sound effects isn't from her heart until Lucas grabs her chin from behind her and turns her face back to the screen to see Dustin's avatar speed past hers effortlessly into a stream of gold coins.

She flushes with her whole body and jams her elbow into her laughing best friend's chest, hastily slamming the pause button on her controller. "Just because you can't win when I'm paying attention doesn't mean you keep going, asshole," she snaps at Dustin before turning back irresistibly to Jane, who is padding towards the group with a soft smile on her face which would have made Max's knees give out were she not already sitting down.

"I thought you could beat me with your eyes closed," Dustin says with amusement in his voice, and the game comes back to life with a burst of 8-bit music.

"Jesus, Dustin, you can pause for five seconds to greet your friend, too," Max says as she scrambles to push buttons by muscle memory alone, all the bite gone from her voice because Jane is digging her teeth into the permanent indentation in her bottom lip as she sinks to her knees beside Max, the shyness in her eyes illuminated by the bright universe behind them, and there's no room for annoyance or any other emotion in her too-full chest.

"Thanks, Jane, keep doing whatever you're doing, she usually doesn't even let us pause to go to the bathroom," Dustin says, and Max is thoroughly distracted from trying to figure out how to punch him without moving her hands from the controller when

Jane pulls back from hugging Will and leans her head on Max's shoulder. That heady, earthy scent fills her nostrils, and Max's head spins more dizzily than her avatar's cart as it careens off the game's track when she loses focus for a dangerous split-second.

"Are you winning?" Jane says softly, shuffling her backside closer so that her chest is pressed against Max's arm just enough to make Max sweat. She smells so, so good, and Max swallows a curse along with a sudden excess of saliva as she fights to keep her hazy eyes on the screen.

"Not with you on my team," Dustin answers Jane with a grin in his voice, and the party laughs around them.

"I wouldn't brag that you're only ahead of me because of her," Max retorts, mashing the buttons on the controller perhaps more emphatically than she needs to as she pushes her avatar to catch up to Dustin's.

"Me?" Jane says quietly, only for Max as the rest of the party jump in to shout over each other enthusiastically. Max doesn't dare to make the mistake of looking at her again, but they're so close she can feel her tilt her head to look up inquisitively.

Max curses her translucently-pale skin as she blushes again. "Uh, yeah, well, usually I play a bit better than this," she admits under her breath to Jane, careful not to jostle her girlfriend's head as she shifts and dips her controller with the racetrack she's navigating on the screen. "But, you know, none of these losers know what it feels like when your girlfriend walks into the room. I'll be done in a minute, we were just wasting time 'till you got here anyway."

"Final lap, partner, don't let me down now," Dustin calls to Jane jovially, not breaking his expert button-mashing even as Lucas and Will laugh and balance their elbows on one of each of his shoulders to better see the screen.

"Leave her alone, Dustin," Max snaps, a flutter of irritation in her stomach as she feels Jane lift her head from its perch on her shoulder. "You're not -" Her words fade on her scowling lips when Jane's cool little palm cups her flushed cheek and gently turns her face away from the screen, and she barely has time to furrow her eyebrows with confusion at her girlfriend before Jane leans in wordlessly to kiss her.

Max can feel her pleased half-smile against her lips, but it only makes the excitable fluttering of her heart pick up speed. Familiar, hypnotizing warmth spreads from the brush of their lips over every inch of her flushed skin, and she relaxes and leans into Jane's mouth immediately, fingers ceasing their movement over the controller as her hands lower to her lap in her awe.

She's vaguely aware of Dustin's shouts of victory as Jane pulls back just enough to brush the tips of their noses together, but she can't quite remember how to lift her fluttering eyelashes, let alone care about anything except Jane's exhale against her tingling lips. "Traitor," she says breathlessly, but she can't contain her grin at Jane's little snicker and she drops the controller to cradle her face with both hands and pulls her back in for a deeper kiss.

Their lips slide together innocently, slow and reverent as they sink into the touch again, but Max is still breathless when Jane breaks the kiss with a husky hum and leans their foreheads together. She's stroking Jane's cheeks with her thumbs, trying to get her panting under control so that she can follow the other girl's gravitational pull back to her lips, when an all-too familiar voice clears his throat and she shoots upright automatically, falling abruptly from Jane's dizzying constellations back to the Byers's living room. Jane sighs and drops her hand from Max's face, looking over her shoulder with an expression Max is certain will get them corralled to opposite ends of the house for the rest of the night, but Chief Hopper is smiling as he looms over them in the doorway, even as he fixes his daughter with a pointed look. This may have something to do with Mrs. Byers hovering by his side, tiny next to his towering bulk, but Max isn't about to wipe the almost-hesitant smiles off of their faces, and the potential for her night with Jane along with it, by pointing this out.

“It's not midnight yet,” Chief Hopper says, raised eyebrows fraught with meaning as his eyes slide to Max, and although her head spins a bit from all the blushing she's done in the past few minutes, she can't help but join in the laughter of the group around her. “All right, we're all staying in for the night, correct? You got some kind of plan until midnight?”

“We're starting our new D&D campaign tonight,” Mike says enthusiastically from the dining room table he's been carefully setting up for half an hour.

“Uh – Your what campaign?” Chief Hopper says, thick eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

“Dungeons and Dragons,” Lucas, Mike and Dustin say at the same time.

The lines in Chief Hopper's forehead only deepen. “And what is Dungeons and Dragons?”

“It's a fantasy tabletop RPG,” Mike explains. “I'm the Dungeon Master, and the rest of the party are the heroes.”

Chief Hopper looks at Mrs. Byers, who pats his arm and purses her lips like she's trying not to smile. “It's a board game they like to play,” she says.

“It's not a board game,” Mike and Lucas burst out irritably. Chief Hopper turns to look at them with a deep frown on his face, and Max takes a long, cathartic moment to appreciate watching Mike wither under his gaze. “Sorry, Mrs. Byers," Mike says. "But it's not.”

“It's okay, sweetheart,” Mrs. Byers smiles. “The only thing I really know about it come from Will's drawings, I suppose.”

“You are setting up a board right now,” Max adds helpfully, just to see Mike blush and scowl darkly again, but it's Lucas who flicks the back of her head.

“Yeah, that joke gets funnier with every campaign you use it again,” he says sarcastically, and she mirrors his annoyed expression mockingly and tugs his bandana down over his eyes.

“Okay, okay,” Jonathan laughs from his all-seeing vantage point on the couch as Max whirls around to begin their inevitable wrestling match. “No fighting in your own party.”

“Chief Hopper and I will be in the kitchen if you need anything,” Mrs. Byers says, pulling her oversized flannel around herself in her nervous way as she smiles around at the group. “Jonathan, are you joining us or staying with the kids?”

“I'll stay out here like usual and let you guys have your own New Years, Mom,” Jonathan says with a knowing grin in his voice.

Mrs. Byers turns pink and glances at Chief Hopper, but he's looking incredulously from the elaborate game grid on the dining room table to Jane and doesn't seem to have heard Jonathan. “Well, there's stuff in the kitchen to make tacos for when you guys get hungry,” Mrs. Byers presses on like Jonathan hadn't spoken, although she starts fishing around in her jeans pocket hurriedly and pulls out a cigarette case. “And a bowl of home-made fruit punch.”

This seems to snap Chief Hopper back to himself. “And we'll be there the whole time, so nobody try to spike the punch,” he growls.

“You can't drink while you play Dungeons and Dragons,” Mike says, offended.

The smile in Mrs. Byers's eyes as she watches Chief Hopper raise his eyebrows at Mike is so soft Max feels her own expression soften in response before she can stop it. "Okay, kids, have fun," she says, and pulls Chief Hopper into the kitchen by a little tug on his sleeve.

The party snickers together as they all rise to migrate over to the dining room table. "Looks like you two are going to be step-siblings," Dustin says conspiratorially, stepping between Jane and Will to throw an arm around each of their shoulders before Max can attach herself to her girlfriend's side.

"It's nice," Jane smiles. "Hop relaxes with her."

"Yeah, Mom's been really happy since you guys started coming around during Hanukkah," Will says, leaning around Dustin to smile at Jane as the group approaches the table. "Smiling and fluffing pillows and stuff."

"I was really happy when you guys started joining us for Hanukkah, too, but mostly because I got to watch Chief Hopper try to sing along with Ma'oz Tzur and get worse every time," Jonathan calls from the couch, and the party laughs.

Max elbows Dustin out of the way and throws herself into the chair next to Jane's while he's busy frowning at her. "Hey, no favoring your girlfriend with healing and protection, Lady Jane the Powerful," Dustin says over Max's head, pointing an accusatory finger at the punk girl. "We're a team, no real-life special privileges."

"Tell that to your D.M. and his boyfriend," Max points out, wrapping one arm around the back of Jane's chair and swatting Dustin's stomach with the other. She grins across the table at Mike, but she can practically feel Will's blush all the way from the other side of Dustin.

"Nobody's getting special privileges," Mike says with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "Here are all your character sheets. There's space to make notes at the bottom. I recommend keeping your stats on top so that you can reference them on your turn, no one's expected to memorize them. Do you want to play, Jonathan?" he adds over their heads. "We can use an old NPC and have them return home after one quest tonight, or something."

"Thanks, but I'm good with the T.V.," Jonathan says, waving the remote with an easy grin on his face. "I'm really only here to make sure the couples keep their heads in the game."

Lucas and Dustin laugh loudly, and although he rolls his eyes so theatrically Max's ache sympathetically just watching it, Mike blushes and glances at Will with the soft smile only the smaller boy seems to be able to draw out of him. More to take attention away from the moment the boys seem to have lost themselves in as thoroughly as they're lost in each other's eyes, Max stands to punch Lucas in the shoulder and calls to Jonathan, "If anybody needs a chaperone it's the couple in the kitchen."

"Eugh, Max, why," Will groans, finally looking away from Mike to scrunch up his face at her, and Max waggles her eyebrows at him and takes her seat again as the party laughs around them.

Max turns Jane's character sheet towards her and scans it with interest while Mike scolds the group to _Settle down_ , taking the excuse to wrap an arm around Jane's back and subtly pull her closer. "Wow, Jane, your character is almost as super-powered as you are in real life," she laughs.

"Yeah, she rolled really well," Mike says with an encouraging smile to Jane. "Hopefully she'll keep up the winning streak once we're actually playing the game, right, Jane?"

Max ducks her head to raise an eyebrow at her girlfriend. Jane's starlit eyes are mischievous, and they snicker together before Jane buries her face in Max's shoulder. As she ducks her head to kiss Jane's hairline Max sees Lucas watching them suspiciously, and she lifts her middle finger to block her mouth from him as she whispers into Jane's skin, "Don't look now, but I think Lucas is onto us."

Jane turns her head to look anyway, although she hurriedly ducks back down to hide her face in Max's sweater again, only her wide doe eyes visible as she peers up at Max. "Do you think he'll tell?" she whispers back.

"Only if he figures it out," Max leans in to mumble against her temple, head swimming dangerously pleasantly as all of her senses fill with Jane. "We have to get him to stop watching us. Kiss me, it's the only way."

Jane bursts out laughing, the bright, unfiltered laugh that always leaves Max blind and disoriented, and, even if she'd wanted to, she would have been helpless to do anything but let Jane pull her in for a long, hot kiss with a firm grip on the collar of her sweater. She soaks in the kiss, weightless, until something small bounces off of her cheek and their friends's laughter is filling her ears instead of the mad pounding of her own heartbeat. Jane keeps her hold on Max's sweater as she turns away to face the table, and Max blinks her glassy eyes open just in time to see the popcorn Lucas and Mike had been throwing at them rise from the table and launch at the boys's faces.

"Okay, okay!" Lucas laughs, lifting his arms to shield his face from the projectiles. "Uncle! Save the magic attacks for the game, Jesus."

"We really need to start playing if we're going to get anywhere, you guys," Mike complains, wiping the fallen popcorn from his lap onto the floor.

"Then start, wastoid," Max says, proud of how little her voice wavers as she settles back into her chair and returns Mike's frown with one of her own. "We can't start plundering dungeons without the Dungeon Master."

"How do we start?" Jane asks, face flushed with bright interest as she looks around at the miniatures spread out on the table in front of them. She leans forward to examine the little character figurines with wide eyes, and Max's stomach swoops like she's unexpectantly rocketed forward on her skateboard.

"So you're all here," Mike explains, gesturing to the tiny figurines clustered in front of his Dungeon Master's screen. "You're all gathering in Icewind Dale to begin your quest to save the five factions from the Cult of the Dragon - remember the world-building stuff we went over when we were making your character?" Jane nods, and Mike smiles encouragingly and continues, "So you're all going to go around and introduce your characters, since this is the first time all the heroes are meeting each other, and then we'll start out on the actual story-line and move across this grid, and you'll each take turns making moves for your characters."

"Moves?" Jane repeats, leaning over the grid board to examine the miniature trees curiously.

"Yeah, whatever you want your character to do," Mike says patiently. "Walk in any direction, or cast a spell, or examine something -"

"Or literally anything you can come up with, the more creative the better," Dustin says enthusiastically. "We've played this setting a bunch of times, but it's always a different adventure, because the story changes depending on what we do and how we work together."

"Anything?" Jane says, looking up at them with wide eyes.

"Anything," the rest of the party repeats, and, although they've all played through many versions of this world before, Max can feel the same level of excitement radiating off of the rest of the group as is shining through Jane's breath-taking eyes.

"I make a plot, but you guys are the ones writing the story," Mike says with a smile. "You ready to try it?"

"Yes," Jane says, and the rest of the party shifts in their seats and looks at Mike expectantly.

"Okay," Mike says, dark eyes smiling even as he rearranges his features into a serious expression. "Throughout Icewind Dale, its people are trapped and threatened by the most terrifying of all possible dangers..."  
\---  
Jonathan allows them a full minute of loud, back-slapping celebration before he waves his arms for their attention like he's directing traffic. “All right, that looks like a good place to take a rest in your saga of adventure,” he laughs. “It's five minutes to midnight, come watch the ball drop.”

“You're a natural at this, Jane,” Lucas says, slinging an arm around her shoulders as the group makes their way over to the television in an excitable cluster. “Standing right in front of that lich and staring it down while you cast sleep at _level one_. Awesome.”

“Definitely survived on impressiveness alone,” Mike grins.

“And when Lucas rolled for Insight when we were ready to follow that elf on a quest and it turned out to be a drow trying to lure us underground!” Dustin bursts in, waving his hands emphatically as he leads the way over to Jonathan. “The game would have been over right there if it hadn't been for him!”

“And we couldn't have defeated it without Dustin's Bardic Inspiration,” Will adds eagerly, swinging the hand entwined with Mike's in his excitement.

“Awesome game, Mike,” Lucas says, leaning around Jane and Will to grin at the taller boy. “I don't think we've encountered this many monsters so early in a game before.”

“You never know what all this early leveling-up might prepare you for,” Mike says mysteriously, and the boys burst into excitable chatter again.

In the ensuing chaos, Max steals Jane away from Lucas's casual hold and pulls her down onto the couch. Jane immediately weaves their fingers together over her knee and folds her own legs up to curl into Max's side, and a blush spreads across Max's skin all at once like she's just stepped out into the sun, which she supposes in a way she has. “How was your first taste of D&D?” she asks, leaning their foreheads together dizzily.

“I like it,” Jane says, playing with Max's fingers with a small half-smile. “I didn't know if I would.”

“Really?” Max says, surprised. “Why's that?”

“I don't like fighting,” Jane says quietly, watching their fingers slide together from beneath her thick lashes. “In real life. Hurting, killing, with the bad men I had to, but it wasn't fun.”

“Shit,” Max breathes. She and the boys have always had fun being powerful, battle-worn heroes in their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns and video games, but she hadn't considered the fact that Jane was a hero in real life and might have bad memories that were too close to the violent game play for comfort, especially because of how her character class was chosen. "Oh jeez, Jane, I did't even think - do you want to change your character type, at least? Mike would have no problem if you told him -"

"Max," Jane says, and she slips her hand away from Max's gently to cradle her face. She strokes her thumb along Max's cheekbone, and Max's eyes ache gloriously and glaze over from having her small, radiant smile so close. "It's okay. I had fun. I like being the party's mage. It's different than real life."

Max laughs shakily, leaning her burning cheek into Jane's light touch like it's the only thing holding her head upright. "Yeah, I sure hope it is," she says, and lets her eyes close for a heady moment as Jane's snicker washes over her skin like an ocean wave. "Although with the shit that's been thrown at you, maybe that's not a given. What I really like about DD, what I wasn't expecting when Lucas described it as role-playing a novel, was how much it's dependent on the group working well together. Like, we fight monsters and level up and stuff, but everybody in the party contributes something that we need, that we can't tell the story without, and I really felt like part of the group, officially, when I played D&D with them for the first time. It's why we call ourselves the party. I was just thinking about you having that, too, knowing you're an integral part of the group, not how literal battling monsters is for you."

Jane's tractor-beam eyes are pulling words out of her mouth again, gravitational pull dragging thoughts directly from her pathetically lovesick heart instead of her brain, but those eyes are so warm and alight with endless stars as the other girl gazes at her relentlessly that she decides to be embarrassed about it later. "That's why I liked being your mage," Jane says, voice quiet despite her wide, blinding grin. "When I use them for the party, my powers are good."

Max is dizzily trying to remember how to speak when Lucas throws himself onto the couch beside her, flinging his arms around her shoulders and squishing their cheeks together. "Better get my hugs in now, since I know you'll be occupied for the first little while of the new year," he says with a grin in his voice, tugging her out of Jane's hold to pull her half into his lap. "You planning on joining the party before your latest excuse to make out?"

"No, go away," Max says, voice muffled by his sweater as she cuddles into his chest.

She feels his laugh rumble through his body as he lifts one arm from her back. "Come get in on this, Jane," he calls. Max's heart leaps embarrassingly as she feels Jane's lithe form curl around her back as the other girl wraps her arms around both herself and Lucas, and the way Lucas snorts as he squeezes both girls closer gives her the embarrassing suspicion that it was so wild she wasn't the only one who had felt it.

"One minute to midnight!" Mike announces, and the little group breaks apart as the rest of the party piles onto the couch around them. "They drop this giant globe in Times Square in New York right at midnight to ring in the new year," he adds to Jane, looming over the rest of the group effortlessly to smile at her.

"I know, but I've never watched it before," Jane says, eyes alight with interest as she watches the celebration on the television with a tilt of her head.

Max keeps her face towards the screen, trying not to be too obvious about shamelessly ignoring the program to stare at Jane out of the corner of her eye. "It's pretty much what it says on the tin, but it's a fun thing to do every year," she says.

"Thirty seconds!" Mike proclaims, even though they're all watching the same countdown on the screen.

"it's more fun watching it from the comfort of your own home than dealing with the huge crowd in real life," Jonathan says, leaning on his folded forearms over the back of the couch. "It takes hours to get out of there after the ball drops, Times Square is a mess."

"Get your noisemakers ready!" Dustin says excitedly, rustling around on the couch for his bag of New Years paraphernalia and jostling the whole group with his movements.

"You're already enough of a noisemaker without that shit," Lucas says, and Dustin's answering shove sends Max toppling half on top of Jane with the domino effect of their bodies.

She blushes, stupidly, because she's been closer than this to Jane before, and considering the look in Jane's endless eyes as she gazes up at Max from beneath her thick lashes as neither of them move away even after the boys settle back into the couch, Jane is just as okay with this position as she is. The boys begin the ten-second countdown, and she swallows thickly, locked in those tractor-beam eyes. "You know, another tradition we have is a kiss at midnight," she says lowly.

She's so close she can't see Jane's lips, but her stomach quivers and melts into a pool of liquid heat as she watches the smile form in Jane's eyes. "I know," Jane whispers. "Another new tradition for me."

Max can barely stop herself from dipping down to kiss her greedily right then, but if Jane has never had a proper New Years before she doesn't want to ruin the moment just because Jane is glowing with all of the light of the breath-taking galaxies inside of her. She hears their friends shout, "Five!" and she allows her eyes to drop irresistibly to Jane's lips, heart stuttering in her chest when she finds them already parted. "Really?" she says breathlessly.

"Four!"

"Yes," Jane whispers, lifting both hands to run her fingers through the thick hair at Max's temples. "I love you."

"Three!"

Max leans her forehead against Jane's perhaps a bit more heavily than she means to, Jane's constellations of suns burning hot in her chest. "I've never started a new year kissing someone I love," Jane admits quietly.

"Two!"

Max groans and finally follows every fiber of her being pulling her into Jane, and neither of them regret missing the beginning of 1989.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Carousel_13 (who I think changed their name to makemelovely??? If that's not you I'm sorry, I know your stories but the name is changed in my inbox so I'm not 100% sure!!!) who is this wildly, heart-crushingly talented writer who I fangirl over a lil bit every time they comment on this story!!! I'm so lucky to have actual writers reading my fic because it gives me both the confidence and motivation to push to get better with every chapter, so thanks for being amazing and intimidating!!! ahlghsjg;lf seriously when I started writing in this tag there were barely any fics at all and now it's not like there are a lot but it's flourishing and they're all. so good. so thank you to everyone who has shared anything they've created about these two beautiful ladies!!!<3


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm warning for references to masturbation just to be safe!!! No actual depictions or descriptions tho so I think it's sfw!!! Happy thirty chapters of this hot mess of a fic, we did it kids!!!

Although she rolls her eyes dramatically at the look of panic which crosses Lucas's face, she's quick to take his offered hand as she scrambles through the window the second he throws it open. “Jesus Christ, Max, you know you're allowed to use the front door, right?” Lucas says incredulously, taking a moment to look her up and down for injuries before he drops her hand to pull the window shut again.

“Thought I'd bring back a classic, for old time's sake,” Max grins, trying not to sound as out of breath as she feels. When they had been dating in middle school she'd climbed up the drainpipe to sneak into his room countless times, but her current weight and size, coupled with the loss of the daring sense of invincibility which came with being older than thirteen, had made the climb she'd thought she knew like the back of her hand much more terrifying than she remembers.

“It's  _old times_  and not  _modern times_  for a reason,” Lucas says pointedly, snapping his curtains shut like he thinks someone could be sitting on the lawn watching them with a pair of binoculars.

“Yeah, because I'm not banned from your bedroom now,” Max says, waggling her eyebrows. She strolls over to the bed and throws herself onto his mountains of blankets, throwing her arm over her head in a mock-seductive pose.

“Exactly, which means you can use the front door,” Lucas says irritably, utterly unaffected by her position as he pads over to his desk chair across the room. “What if I wasn't here?”

“Then it would be pointless to use the front door,” Max points out, and laughs at the long-suffering look he gives her. “Fine, fine, god, old man. No more fun. Although you know Erica would be hovering right now if she knew I was here, alone with you all cuddled up in your sexy Star Wars sheets.”

“Wow, a lesbian in my bed,” Lucas says, deadpan, but his lip twitches almost imperceptibly when she bursts out laughing and rolls over, tilting her head back to grin at him upside-down. “Kind of pointless if there's only one of you. Your girlfriend not around?”

She shoots upwards and throws one of his pillows at him, and it's his turn to burst out laughing, swinging back and forth on his desk chair as he catches the pillow with ease. “Hey, no talking about my girlfriend,” she protests jokingly, although there's more of an edge to it than she intends.

Lucas drops the pillow into his lap and holds up his hands in surrender, still grinning. “All right, all right. I'm pretty sure Jane can defend herself, though.”

“Yeah, she can,” Max says, and gets distracted with the memory of brown eyes burning with the fury of her thousand suns and hands, so tender when they cradle Max's face, curl into destructive fists. Lucas's knowing snicker brings her back to herself, and she blushes brighter than the waterfall of hair she covers her expression with as she ducks down to yank one of her boots off and throw it in Lucas's general direction.

“Shit, make yourself at home, Max,” Lucas complains, rolling his chair across the plastic pad to catch her boot before it lands on his clean carpet. “Is there a reason you invited yourself over to redecorate my room?”

“Yeah,” Max says, and she can't help the slight waiver in her voice at the word. She looks away quickly when his eyes snap to hers, fiddling with the blankets bunched around her legs, and she hears the soft rhythm of his desk chair against the mat slow to a stop.

“What's up?” he says softly.

Max keeps looking down at the blankets, shuffling to slide both feet off the bed so that she can ease her other boot off. “I mean, nothing, really,” she amends, avoiding his eyes as she searches for what she wants to say.

“You climbed the drain pipe to the second floor in January for nothing?” Lucas points out, and she grins, grateful for his attempt to break the tension she feels closing up her throat like a vice.

“Yeah, no,” she says, smiling self-deprecatingly down at his tangled blankets. She turns back to face him and meets his gaze, rolling her eyes when she sees his are a little bit too understanding. “It's nothing bad,” she clarifies, and his shoulders relax infinitesimally. “I promise. It's dumb, really.”

“Max,” Lucas says softly.

“And definitely not worth climbing through your window for. Although the look on your face definitely was.”

“Max,” Lucas repeats, still soft but more insistent now.

“And you can't tell the rest of the party,” she adds quickly.

Lucas raises his eyebrows, spreading his hands incredulously. “When have I ever told the party anything about you?”

“When did you know you were ready to have sex?” she blurts out before he can finish the last syllable.

Lucas raises his eyebrows. Max blushes with her whole body, suddenly boiling beneath her puffy winter coat as she ducks her head again to let her long hair fall across her burning cheeks, and she wonders, somewhat hysterically, whether she would make it back down the drainpipe as injury-free as she'd climbed it.

But Lucas says, genuine incredulity in his voice, “You and Jane haven't had sex yet?”

Max's head snaps up to look at him in surprise before she can stop herself. He's staring back at her with as much disbelief in his expression as she's feeling, eyebrows furrowed as he starts rolling his chair almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it as he watches her, and a laugh bubbles up in her throat despite everything. “What do you mean, we haven't had s – se – What makes you think that we did?”

“Uh, I've been in the same room as you two,” Lucas says sarcastically, like she's the one asking stupid questions. “You guys really haven't done it? I thought you had Mike and Will beat by a mile.”

Max sputters a bit as she tries to pull a face while slightly-insane laughter bubbles irrepressibly from her chest. “God, don't make me think about M – Wait, did they tell you they did it already?”

“No, and I don't think they have,” Lucas says with a shrug. “But they started dating five minutes ago, and you two are in love.”

“Will and Mike are in love,” Max protests, nonsensically, because she's so thrown off by this reaction to the thing that's been lurking in the back of her traitor mind for so long she can't remember the last night she hadn't had to force herself awake guiltily in the middle of a dream, and she has no idea how to go forward with the conversation she'd come to have. “Why are you even thinking about – Wait, did we even tell you we said we loved each other? Did Jane talk to you?”

“Yeah, you know blabbermouth Jane, always telling us private stuff,” Lucas says, and snatches the second pillow she throws at him out of the air with ease. “You don't need to tell us, you two stare into each other's eyes like the main couples in my mom's telenovas.”

“Because this conversation is proving that you can read our relationship so well,” Max points out. She sticks her tongue out at him automatically when he retorts with one choice finger, but she can't help but shift on the mattress restlessly, heart pounding in anticipation like she's about to kick off on her skateboard. “But you – I don't – What did you -” she clamps her mouth shut and takes a long moment to choose her words, watching her hands play with the blanket by her knees with much more interest than is warranted. “We haven't done anything,” she says, quietly, and resists the urge to curl into a ball and bury her face in her knees.

“But you want to,” Lucas says. It's less of a question than a summation, but she knows he's waiting for her to say it.

Max makes a face at the blankets, but she sighs and forces herself to look up at him. Lucas is good at teasing out the truth from her and making her face what she's already feeling, and she needs that, if driving all the way to her best friend's house unannounced on a school night to scale his house with all of the anxious, excitable feelings that has been twisting her stomach for weeks, is any indication. “I don't know,” she says honestly. “I don't know... How to know, I guess.”

Lucas purses his lips as he considers this. After a long moment he gathers the pillows into his arms and rises from his chair, returning her raised eyebrow with one of his own as he joins her on the bed. “Is she asking you to?” he says, laying the pillows by the headboard and turning towards her.

Max's face flames, and she scowls reflectively even though he doesn't react. “No,” she says, shuffling around on the mattress to make room for his long legs. “She hasn't – Is that a bad sign?” she blurts out, new worry overriding her embarrassment enough to make her look up at him.

Lucas grins, and traps her under one arm when she leans in to punch his shoulder. “No, Jane strikes me as an actions-speak-louder-than-words kind of girl,” he says, tightening his arm around her as she shuffles her backside to lean into his side. “I don't think it's a problem if she hasn't sat you down to discuss it. But that's not what we're trying to figure out here. Are you feeling pressured, or are you just starting to think about doing it?”

“She's definitely not pressuring me,” Max says quickly. Every sweet kiss and intimate embrace she and Jane had ever had was natural and more than willing, and, more often than not, Max's own idea. There were many ideas of hers that she hadn't followed through on, usually half-remembered when she awoke with the memory of Jane's taste on her lips and the reality of her own hand beneath her pyjamas, and these were the ones she needed to figure out before she spontaneously combusted like a lonely star in Jane's endless galaxy of suns. “I just don't – Did you have to think about it beforehand, or did you just... Do it?”

Lucas grins into the top of her head. “Oh, sure,  _now_  she wants to hear about my first time. Suddenly it's not weird for you when  _you_  want to talk about it?”

“You called me right after you got home to tell me,” Max says defensively. “ _That's_  weird.”

“I was excited,” Lucas laughs. “Leslie Kim is hot. Excuse me for expecting my best friend to be happy for me.” She shoves him, and he tightens his arm around her to throw her off-balance, sending them tumbling backwards onto the bed. He only laughs harder, head hanging off the edge of the bed as they land on their backs, and Max can't help but join in, even if her laughter is more nervous than humorous. Once their laughter fades into quiet giggles, Lucas slides the arm trapped beneath Max's back and folds his hands over his stomach, not bothering to lift his head from the side of the mattress as he continues more softly, “It just kind of happened. I think I'd been ready for awhile, so by the time she was it was an overall positive experience for both of us. I hope, anyway.”

“Yeah, but how did you know?” Max presses, using the excuse to stare up at the ceiling as she fidgets with the nest of hair pillowed beneath her head. “Obviously I want it to be positive for both of us, but how do I know before it's too late?”

Lucas laughs so hard she feels the mattress beneath their backs shake with it. “Too late? You're not locked into a contract, MadMax.”

She pokes his belly, and he pokes her back. “It's just kind of one of those things you know,” he says.

Max groans and covers her eyes with the heels of her hands. Lucas laughs and pokes her again, but she only digs them painfully into her sockets. “I hate that cliche so much,” she moans.

“It's a cliche for a reason,” Lucas says, sounding as apologetic as he can with a grin in his voice. “You either know, or you tell your best friend more than you want him to know about your sex life. Or lack of one, I guess.” He pauses, but she doesn't move her hands from her eyes, so he nudges her and says, “How did you know you were in love with her?”

Max turns her face to grimace in his general direction without taking her hands away from her eyes. “Well, aside from it apparently being  _obvious_ , I just kind -” She stops abruptly, mouth frozen halfway through the word as her brain catches up to what she'd been about to say, and she finally drops one of her hands to punch any part of him she can reach when he rolls away from her on the mattress, laughing so hard the frame of his bed shakes and thumps against the wall.

“Shut up, wastoid,” she hisses, jabbing him between the ribs as he curls into a ball to escape her hands. “Half of Hawkins can hear you, let alone your mom downstairs.”

“If you'd come through the front door like a normal person that wouldn't be a problem,” Lucas says, grinning at her over his shoulder. Whatever look she has on her face makes his expression soften, and he flops over onto his back again, concern in his warm dark eyes. “My mom knowing you were over doesn't mean she has to know what we're talking about.”

“I know,” Max says, making a face at him. She lies back and stretches her arms above her head, letting her long hair flow over the side of the mattress behind her. “I just – It's embarrassing. And – I know the people who matter know, about me and Jane, but we still have to be so secret about it, it's hard to relax at all, even once it's safe. When I want to talk to you about her, my first instinct is to not even let your family know we're together. And your family are good people. You got to make out with Leslie Kim at school and bring her home for family dinner, and I have to be conscious of how much eye contact I make with Jane when we're working on a chem lab together.”

Lucas sighs and rolls over to face her. He slides one arm off the edge of the mattress and squeezes her fingers, and although she still doesn't take her eyes off of the ceiling fan, the tension in her stomach eases a little. “It sucks, and it's all bullshit,” he says, voice tight like he's working himself up to go off on a rant, and she squeezes his fingers back to assure him she's okay. “And I can only imagine how hard it would be to figure out what you want when you're always on the defense like that. But you have Jane, and none of the people who make you live in judgment and secrecy can take her away from you.”

Wordless due to her heart taking up residence in her throat, she rolls over and leans her head on his chest. He lets out a heavy breath as he falls over onto his back, lifting his hand away from hers to as she lets her head land on his shoulder. “And, hey, if anyone knows about judgment and secrecy, it's Jane,” he jokes, and she allows herself a small smile even as she pinches his waist scoldingly. “You kind of lucked out, there, finding a girl who an expert at keeping under the radar but has also knows all about being a lesbian.”

His words break through the fog she had been dangerously close to being lost in at the thought of how lucky she was to have Jane. “Do you think she's slept with other girls?” She says the thought aloud as it occurs to her, and then her stomach drops to her socked feet dangling off the mattress.

Lucas freezes beneath her. “I didn't say that,” he says, too quickly. When she only curls her legs up onto the mattress and doesn't answer he says, “Would that bother you if she had?”

“No,” Max says, also too quickly. She lets the word hang in the air for one long inhale and exhale of their breaths before she says, “Not in a... Judging way, I mean.”

“I mean, she didn't hide liking girls until she got to Hawkins,” Lucas says gently, like he's trying to soften a blow as much as possible.

“No, I mean -” She shifts restlessly, squeezing her mouth shut as she tries to find the right words for why she's suddenly as frozen as when she'd been hanging outside of Lucas's window despite still wearing her winter coat inside his heated house. “Yeah, actually, that's my point. She'd traveled the country and met all kinds of girls before she moved here, girls who were cool and open-minded and not from small towns. Girls who knew what they were doing.”

She clamps her mouth shut, but the damage has already been done; Lucas's whole body vibrates beneath her with his silent laughter. She starts to say his name, dizzy with the sudden change in temperature as her whole body flushes so hot she starts to sweat, but he rolls over and flicks her forehead before she can speak, and all that comes out is an indignant squawk. “You're worried you're not going to be good enough in bed?” he laughs, dark eyes dancing with his mirth as they chase her avoident gaze.

She scowls at him, but she doesn't trust her voice so she doesn't answer. “The girl who marched into her first session ever of D&D and took over our starting battle to 'Show us how it's done' even though she hadn't even read the rule book and didn't know what the monster was, she's worried she won't figure out what to do for her girlfriend?”

“Lucas,” Max groans, covering her whole face with her hands as he cackles beside her. “Why the fuck do I tell you anything? That was a game. This is serious. I don't even really know what – What we would –”

“I have some magazines if you want some ideas,” Lucas says with a grin in his voice, and she keeps her eyes squeezed shut while she lowers one hand to punch him in the stomach. “Although you didn't need a D&D player's manual for ideas to – Okay, okay!” he laughs as she raises her fist to hit him again. “Max, that's the last thing you need to be worried about. Seriously. Every time you sleep with someone new it's like your first time, there's no special moves you have to know beforehand. Even if Jane wasn't head-over-heels in love with you, you're fine on that front. Just like we were talking about before. You know what feels right.”

Max keeps her face covered with her hands, but now it's to keep her head from spinning as Lucas's voice telling her Jane is  _head-over_ -heels echoes through her mind. “You think so?” she says.

“Yes,” Lucas says emphatically, amusement still coloring his voice. She lowers her hands to look up at him, and he raises his eyebrows at her. “Shit, and here I thought we were having a serious conversation.”

“It is serious,” Max protests, but she feels a laugh bubbling up in her chest. They snicker together, and then Max props herself up on one elbow to loom over him, throwing one arm over his shoulder. “I like talking with you, stalker.”

Lucas grins easily, tilting his head to look up at her. “I like talking with you, MadMax.” It's an exchange they've used after serious conversations since she'd first opened up to him in middle school, a much easier and more personal way to remind each other of their platonic love without needing to say the words, and it makes Max grateful to have a best friend who understands her so well every time they use it.

To cover for her overflowing heart, Max cuffs him in the shoulder. Lucas rolls his eyes at her and pulls her back down fully onto the mattress, catching her hands before they can find a place to tickle. “Can we please go and let my mom know you're here now?” he complains. “She's in the kitchen, and I was just about to go and get a snack before you decided to Indiana Jones it up the side of our house.”

“Why would Indiana Jones climb the drainpipe of a house?” Max points out. She rolls over onto her stomach to pulls herself over the mattress until her upper body is hanging off the side and starts rooting around underneath his bed.

“You tell me, Indy,” Lucas says suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Getting those porn magazines to show your mom,” she says without pausing her rummaging.

She knows he doesn't really have any porn when he rolls his eyes and doesn't try to stop her. “I think she'd be more pissed about you almost dying than me having dirty magazines,” he says.

“If you give them to me we can test that theory,” she teases, swinging her long hair over one shoulder to smirk up at him.

A grin spreads slowly across Lucas's face, and she pauses at the sudden feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. “You know, Max, if you're really that into seeing pictures of naked ladies, you could have just asked to borrow them,” he says patronizingly.

Max blushes so suddenly she gets light-headed and has to plant her hands on the floor abruptly to hold herself up, and Lucas bursts out laughing again, rolling away from her on the bed in his glee. “I don't – You're admitting to having porn and you're calling me a perv?” she snaps defensively, scrambling back up onto the bed to kneel beside him while he curls on his side away from her. “I don't know if you're more of a creep or an idiot.”  
“Why don't you ask Jane?” Lucas says, voice still shaking with laughter as he rolls onto his back to smirk wickedly at her. “I'm sure she'll be really interested to know that you were tearing apart my room looking for dirty pictures of other – Hey!” he laughs as she attacks his stomach with pinching fingers, twisting his hips to try and evade her rapid assault. “One conversation about sex and you turn into a – pervy – Okay, that's it,” he interrupts himself, and rolls them both over with both of her wrists trapped by one of his hands. He leans over her as she lands with an  _oof_ on her back, holding her hands captive against her stomach as he keeps her pinned to the mattress with his body weight, and Max is just wondering whether her inability to breathe is from her landing or her laughter when the door opens and a familiar voice makes them both look up.

“Lucas, can you not be a loud nerd for five -” Erica's eyes widen as she takes in the scene, brightening with the joy of someone who is finally having a Christmas after five years of waiting, and both Max and Lucas are hit with the realization a moment too late when Erica calls gleefully, “Mooooom!” and turns to tear down the hallway without a backwards glance.

Lucas swears and jumps off of Max, yells mingling with Erica's as he rushes out of the bedroom after her. Max sighs, pausing before she stands to try to flatten her hair into something that resembles bedhead a little bit less, and mutters, “Guess she knows I'm here now,” before rising to follow her best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to lesbianmax who liked that party and specifically Max/Lucas friendship!!! Thank you for reading and letting me indulge in my favourite soft friendship dynamic!!!<3  
> Next chapter is almost done so it shouldn't take as long!!! Sorry for the lack of El in this one but I'm weak for writing Lucas and El's back in the next chapter in a big way!!! I've only gotten through *thirty* chapters because of people taking the time to leave kudos and comments so thank you so much for making it this far with me!!! I don't know how this became my life but I'm so happy it did!!!<3


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so annoyed at myself for starting this story in December, because I'm writing about frigid winter weather in august and by the time i finish elmax's school year it'll probably be Christmas again!!! who's excited to read about Valentines day in September??? alsjdhfhsjdjh;fl  
> Nothing you wouldn't see in a pg movie but warning for smoking, mentions of weed, and Max not being able to use the s word even tho she wants to do it!!!

Shivering theatrically, Max curls her fingers in the soft leather beneath her chin and puts all of her dizzy, vibrating energy into controlling her blush. “If that wind doesn't make you want to quit just to stay inside, nothing will.”

She can feel Jane's snicker against her stomach. The two girls had escaped to Max's car the second the school lunch bell had rung, before any of the boys could find them and invite themselves along, and they had spent a blissful, glorious half-hour alone driving aimlessly and singing along with Jane's mix tape through mouthfuls of their packed lunches. When Jane had declared she needed to stop for a cigarette Max had panicked, greedy for every stolen second alone with her girlfriend but not eager to follow her outside into the frigid January weather to breathe in her second-hand smoke, and had parked the car on the side of an abandoned country road to roll down a window as little a possible. With a wicked grin Jane had stopped her and dragged her into the backseat, trapping the helpless redhead with one arm and raising the other to hang the hand holding the cigarette outside the half-lowered window behind her head as she lounged across the length of the seat, and Max hasn't quite recovered yet despite Jane being halfway through her cigarette.

Jane props the heel of her worn combat boot against the window opposite the one protecting Max from her cigarette at their feet. “I can still go outside,” she mumbles into Max's hair.

Max's hands tighten in her jacket automatically, and she tilts her face up to frown jokingly at her girlfriend when she snickers again. Jane runs a palm over Max's shoulder down to her elbow and brings the hand holding the cigarette down to her smirking lips, and the only reason Max doesn't roll off the seat onto the floor mats is the strong arm now pressing her to the taller girl's body.

“Not used to designated smoking areas,” Jane murmurs, staring up at the car ceiling as her free hand rises to dangle the cigarette out the window again. “My other friends smoke everywhere they go, even the van. Hop smokes in the house, too, so I thought it was the same.”

“Really?” Max asks, craning her neck to look up at Jane with interest. Although she'd opened up on a few, shining occasions since they'd started dating, Jane isn't the most forthcoming person by nature, and Max latches on eagerly to any hint of information about her life before Hawkins.

Jane nods, exhaling smoke through her nose and slightly-parted lips in a way that makes Max feel like she's the one shallowly breathing in a drug. “When I tried to light up at the police station, Flo said, 'If I see you smoking, I will assume you are on fire and act accordingly.'”

Max laughs; she's heard the quote countless times in school assemblies, but she can imagine how jarring it would be to hear it for the first time when she hadn't known she was doing anything wrong. “You should try that one on Chief Hopper,” she grins.

“I did, as soon as he tried to agree with Flo,” Jane says smugly, and tightens her arm around Max when she laughs and buries her face in the leather jacket beneath her cheek. The tips of her long fingers just brush the expanse of Max's upper arm, and even through the barrier of her puffy winter coat Max feels the blazing trail across her skin.

“But your other friends all smoke?” Max presses, fiddling with the metal zipper pull on the breast pocket of Jane's jacket. The zipper slides open by mistake, and she blushes so hard she feels the leather beneath her cheek heat up. “I guess I knew Axel smokes, since the first thing I ever knew about him was that he blew his eyebrows off,” she adds hastily, but it distracts neither of them and she knows it.

Jane smirks, and Max chooses to believe that it's at her comment and not her gross incompetency. “Most of them. Axel, Mick, and Dottie, and Kali when she drinks.  It helps."

"Helps with what?" Max says, trying not to nuzzle into the slick leather beneath her cheek too obviously.

"Anxiety," Jane says, sounding out each syllable of the word separately like she's shaping it in her mouth. "Hop says I have a nervous stomach. Smoking makes the stomach aches go away."

"Really?" Max says in surprise. She'd always associated smoking with rebels, rock music legends from MTV or antiheroes from action films who take a hit before a cheesy catchphrase; it had never occurred to her that it could be more than a careless indulgence. "Is it like weed?"

Jane bites down on her very kissble lower lip as she rubs the tip of her nose with the fingers clutching her cigarette, considering. "No. Weed is in your head. Tobacco is in your body."

"Yeah, I sure felt it in my lungs, at least," Max mutters, thinking of the one and only time she had pulled tobacco into her lungs. Jane snickers, obviously remembering too, and Max's world vibrates along with Jane's chest with her mirth. "So that's why you smoke?" she says, leaning her weight onto her elbow to prop herself up against Jane's side and meet her endless eyes curiously. “So you feel less nervous?”

Jane gazes back at her warmly from beneath her half-lowered lashes, and she has a moment where she almost collapses on top of the other girl with the sudden melting of her muscles so dangerous that she sinks back down to curl against her side again. “Yes,” Jane says, breaking their gaze nonchalantly as she arches her neck to watch her thumb flick the ashes from her cigarette across the lip of the window, and Max feels her blush through her whole body. “When I first got to Hawkins, it was stressful. I had to take cigarettes from the kids by the gym Hop didn't want me to talk to, to get through the day.”

“Ugh,” Max mutters, picturing the eager edgy-on-purpose kids plying an anxious Jane with cigarettes. Jealousy flares, childishly, in her belly even though their bodies line up along the backseat so intimately her skin burns despite the winter wind blowing through the open window. Jane snickers, sucking in her cheeks as she inhales from her cigarette and looks down at Max with the heat of her countless suns behind her eyes, and Max is vindicated enough to ask, “But it got easier?”

Jane smiles at her. She holds Max's dazed eyes with her tractor-beam gaze as she extends her arm behind herself to flick the butt of the cigarette out the window, silent and serious, and Max is already leaning into her helplessly under the pull of her gravity by the time Jane is cupping her cheek to lead her closer. "Yes," Jane says quietly, and she holds Max's eyes until the moment their lips meet.

Max moans a little into her mouth as they kiss. Mindlessly, she follows Jane's gentle touch downward, leaning her body half-on top of Jane's as she returns the soft press of lips with dizzy enthusiasm. She feels Jane's blinding suns burning inside of her chest at the slow, luxurious drag of their lips, and the searing heat of the other girl blazes over every inch of her willing skin as she feels the hint of Jane's body against her own as she sinks greedily into her embrace. Blind, her lips fall open to let a real moan tears itself from her throat as Jane's chapped lower lip glides over her top one, and Jane buries her long, cool fingers in the hair at her temples and sucks the bow of her top lip at the sound. Jane uses the slight rock of their bodies together to take full possession of her mouth and kisses her harder, sliding her tongue deliciously slowly over Max's in contrast to her greedy lips, and Max has been floating weightlessly in the galaxies behind her eyes for endless, glorious kisses when she shifts her weight to press closer and she feels the inside of her thigh brush the inseam of Jane's jeans.

A jolt through her entire body propels her backwards. Her offending leg flails out blindly and collides with the door handle behind her, and a rush of frigid winter wind bites her overheated skin as the car door swings open. Blushing furiously, she sits up and slams the door shut, the whole car shuddering with the impact almost as much as her guts do in her humiliation.

She lets her long hair hang over her blushing face, kneeling awkwardly on the car seat to avoid any part of her touching any part of Jane. "Uh, sorry, guess when I said you were safe with me I meant from every hazard  _except_  me," she jokes, and then winces at the want still thickening her voice.

"Max," Jane says softly. Max hears her sit up on the backseat and shuffle closer, but she keeps her head down.

"I mean, I should know to avoid doors around you by now," Max blurts out, and then physically winces. She's accepted, at this point, that she's always going to be a little bit foolish around Jane, but right now she feels like she's reverted back to the first time she'd tried to talk to the other girl, so overwhelmed by things she shouldn't want that her mind has abandoned her and her awkward mouth runs purely on bad jokes and pathetic hope.

Unlike the first time she'd botched an attempted conversation with Jane, she feels those now-familiar fingers weave through hers over her knee, and she exhales shakily, Jane's sunlight warming her whole body instead of her own humiliation. "Why avoid doors around me?" Jane says curiously.

Max squeezes her eyes shut.  _Shit._  She shakes her head and strokes her thumb reverently along Jane's hand, but when her eyes open of their own accord in their desperation for Jane, she sees her girlfriend looking back at her unblinklingly, brown eyes patient but expectant. Her eyes are so intoxicating, as endlessly deep as they are beautiful, and their gravity pulls the words from her bruised lips. "Because, as I'm sure you noticed, I tend to get into fights with them around you. Fights I lose."

Jane's eyebrows furrow adorably, and Max's mind clouds over in awe. "Fights?" she repeats, tilting her head curiously. "When you walk into -" She pauses mid-sentence, exceptionally-distracting lips slightly parted as she considers, and then her whole body perks up as she brightens. "Because of me?"

Max looks down, both out of embarrassment and because her eyes ache a bit with Jane's blinding light. "Uh, in case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of an idiot around you," she says reluctantly.

Jane wriggles closer, and Max blushes, stupidly, with the rush of warmth through her whole body when their knees press together. "Not an idiot," Jane says, sweet but erroneous, considering Max feels her clouded brain melt down to join the pool of heat still searing the base of her stomach at her proximity despite this entire conversation. "Only around me? You don't walk into things when I'm not there?"

Max can't help but laugh, and she's grateful as it relives a bit of the strangling pressure in her chest. "You just thought I was a klutz? Damn. Actually, I'm not sure which is more embarrassing, really."

Jane snickers. She burrows closer, leaning her forehead on Max's shoulder as she watches their fingers slide together, and Max lets her, basking in her glow. "You liked me even then?" Jane says, a smile in her quiet voice.

"I liked you from the moment I met you," Max says honestly, drunk on her scent as she presses closer. "What's more unbelievable is that you agreed to date me when you thought I just couldn't put one foot in front of the other."

Jane snorts a laugh and nuzzles the spot next to her collarbone. "I love you," she corrects, and Max shivers as electricity crackles across her skin suddenly like she's a Tesla ball. "And I understand," Jane continues, more quietly, barely audible through the loud buzzing in her ears. "Sometimes I look at you in chemistry lecture, when I should be taking notes. And the whole class passes. You're concentrating so hard, and I only concentrate on you."

Max's breath catches painfully in her chest at the impact as her stupid heart tries its hardest to throw itself through her ribcage to get to her girlfriend. She swallows, vaguely aware that she has an embarrassingly-dopey grin on her face, but unable to think of what to do about it when Jane raises her head and leans closer. She's still grinning too widely to kiss Jane back properly, but she basks in the soft brush of her lips, bumping their noses together as her eyes flutter closed in her awe.

"Don't be shy with me," Jane whispers against her lips, and she parts them automatically at the sensation, searching mindlessly for a kiss. Jane complies, trapping her bottom lip between both of her own and pulling it sinfully slowly before sensually dragging her lips over the plump curve of Max's and releasing it with a wet pop. Dazed, Max's eyelashes flicker but can't seem to open as Jane leans back in for a long, searing-hot kiss, and she gives up on answering and lifts her hands to cradle Jane's cheeks and pull her closer, closer, impossibly closer, and kisses back with abandon. Jane wraps her arms around Max's back and teases her with greedy lips and tongue, but when Max shifts mindlessly closer and her knees slide between the punk girl's legs Jane strokes one hand up her back into her hair and eases backwards, breathing heavily. "Sorry," she whispers.

"No, it's okay," Max blurts out, leaning in to press her lips against Jane's greedily. Jane smiles and kisses her back, but she lifts one hand to cup Max's cheek to gently guide her backwards.

"Max," she says softly.

Max sighs, leaning her forehead against Jane's and squeezing her eyes shut. She thinks of her conversation with Lucas, as she finds herself doing with every brush of their bodies or hint of Jane's scent as she passes since she'd said her swirling thoughts aloud, and she can't tell if the flush which creeps over her whole body is from embarrassment or arousal at the idea. "I love you," she whispers, and her heart lurches forward painfully when Jane leads her head forward with the gentle hand on her cheek so that she can kiss the part of her red hair. "I guess this is the new version of walking into doors," she jokes, content to magnify her awkwardness if it makes Jane laugh.

Jane does laugh, pressing her wide, heart-stopping grin into Max's hair. "I understand," she says emphatically, running her fingers through the waves at Max's temple before leaning back just enough to meet her eyes earnestly.

Max doubts this very much, but she smiles and lets herself drown in Jane's bottomless eyes anyway, marveling at their ability to both draw words from her willing lips with their gravitational pull and take away the eloquence she had while talking to Lucas about the same topic. "I'm so crazy about you," she says, and her head spins when she's rewarded with a faint pink blush and the slightest quirk of those irresistible lips. "I don't really know what I'm doing but..." She exhales. "When I'm with you, I forget all the reasons I have for holding back, and I don't know which part of me is right, and it's like one part of me is trying to sabotage the other part so that I don't screw this up. Not that we're going to jump right into s - making love, but I feel one way and then you kiss me and feel a whole different way."

Jane runs a strand of hair between her index and thumb fingers, watching Max's lips fumble with sun-warmed eyes. "In your body," she says softly. "Needs to be in your head, too."

Max marvels at her all over again, heartbeat pounding through her whole body. "So sex is like weed and cigarettes at the same time?" she jokes, because there is something fundamentally wrong with her and she probably should have stuck with her first instinct to not talk to Jane at all.

Jane, always a miracle, only smiles at her, one eye squinting just slightly as her mouth quirks up on one side. Her lipstick is worn away to the blush-pink of her naked lips in streaks from their kisses, and Max is so dizzy from the sudden warm fog rolling over her mind as she watches them move that it takes her a moment to process Jane's words. "I don't know. Probably better. When you're ready."

"Hmmm. Wait -" Max starts so suddenly Jane jumps, too, strong hands gripping Max's elbows to steady her as her wide, concerned eyes search Max's flushed face. "You - you haven't? Before?"

She realizes she probably should have kept the incredulity out of her voice as Jane's concern turns to caution. "Sex? Before? No?" she says, big eyes dark with worry like she thinks she's in danger of getting yet another detention for something she'd had no way of knowing she should do.

Without thinking, Max pulls her into her arms, and with the surprise displacement they both go tumbling backwards in a flailing pile of limbs. Max cracks her head on the window behind them when Jane lands on top of her with an _oof_ , but she only tightens her arms around Jane's back when the punk girl tries to sit up with a whispered apology. Her whole body shakes, and then she's laughing, loud and full-bodied and just inappropriate enough to be fitting for this conversation, and after a moment Jane joins in, burrowing into her body as her blinding, unfiltered laughter vibrates through her lithe form.

Max presses her nose into Jane's temple, breathing in her drugging scent shamelessly. "We're going to be really fucking good at this once we're ready," she says, and then they're laughing again, so helplessly Jane has to plant one strong leg on the floor beside the seat to keep them from rolling off the seat.

Jane props herself up on the ledge beneath the window with one arm, hovering over Max's body just close enough to set every inch of her skin ablaze. "You were nervous about me having sex before?" she says, and although she's smiling, her eyes search Max's curiously.

Max winces at how it sounds. "I just - It was more that you're awesome and beautiful and had this really interesting life before you got stuck here, and I... I hit you with a basketball because your smile was so pretty. It doesn't really compare."

Jane's slow grin is so disorientingly beautiful Max is vaguely grateful that she doesn't have a basketball in her hands in this moment. "I've never loved someone before," she says, simply, and takes advantage of Max's moment of drunken awe by sinking down fully over her body and kissing her softly.

They have a mad scramble, later, to drive back to school before the final bell seals yet another detention for their tardiness, but for the long, impossible moments they soar weightless and tetherless in Jane's galaxies of stars, there is no more battling between what her mind and her body want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually I dedicate a chapter to a commentor because every comment fuels me and makes me actually want to continue this dumb story (if you've ever commented but wondered why you didn't get a dedication i promise you will!!! I noticed you and love you and there will definitely be more than enough chapters for dedications!!!) but this one, and really the whole story, goes to my girlfriend, whose birthday is coming up soon!!! She's my best friend, my cheerleader, my protector, my rock, and literally the only reason I've ever published anything at all because she believes in me so hard she convinces me to share even when I'm at my lowest!!! You should all leave her birthday wishes in the comments because she's the real mastermind behind this ridiculous novel and she deserves all the love in this world!!!<3  
> I'm going to try to post again soon, but we are travelling for her birthday so if I don't, I love every person who has ever left kudos and comments and I'll be back as soon as I can!!!


	32. Chapter 32

As innocent as the brushes are, Max has the sneaking suspicion that the trajectory of the  lazy swing of Jane's leg be more purposeful than it seems, considering how often it manages to end up sliding somewhere along Max's. "Are we setting up the music, too?" Jane murmurs, beautiful face remaining impassive even when her boot skates the hem of Max's jeans.

Max is trying her best not to stare at her, splayed carelessly across the plastic chair she's sitting on, scratching the base of her hairline absently as one foot teases the material of Max's trousers and her other leg lolls off the side of the seat in a way which makes the redhead sweat helplessly, but she has the feeling she might not be doing a very good job. "No, that's the dance committee's job," Max explains, stretching up unnecessarily onto her tiptoes so that Jane's foot slides along the inner curve of her ankle. The resulting shiver runs through her entire body from the spot Jane's boot brushes over every inch of her skin, and she has to take a long moment to forcefully swallow the excess saliva in her mouth before she continues, “We're just setting up the tech stuff for them.”

She doesn't dare glance down at Jane's face, but she can hear the punk girl's furrowed eyebrows in her voice. “Dance committee?”

“Yeah,” Max says, narrowing her eyes as she tries to determine the most strategic place to tape the wires she's arranging along the stage. The A.V. club is setting up the speaker system and lights for the Valentine's day dance, and she's managed to sequester Jane alone with her under the guise of taping wires along the stage so that they don't interfere with the decorations. She doesn't know how she's managed to fake being competent enough to be trusted to run sound system wires by herself, since Jane is still not allowed to touch any A.V. club equipment, but she's hoping to at least make sure that the wires don't come tumbling down onto innocent dance patrons in the middle of the Valentine's Day ball. “I don't know what they do for the rest of the school year, when there's no events, but the dance committee organizes all the school dances. Decorations, theme, music, advertising, all that stuff. We just set up whatever sound and lights they tell us.”

Jane hums, and Max feels as if one of the wires she's handling has snaked around her ankle and sent a shock through her already-weak body when the other girl's foot hooks around hers for a daring moment before casually sliding away. “So we set up the system, but not the music it plays?” she says with a frown in her voice.

Max can't help but flash her a grin, which almost makes her drop the heavy pile of wires in her hands when she catches those tractor-beam eyes focused appreciatively on the hint of her stomach peeking out from beneath her sweater from her stretching. “You want to sneak some Lunachicks into the Valentine's Day dance lineup?” she teases, even as she falls back down heavily onto the soles of her feet with suddenly-shaky legs under the gravity in Jane's eyes. “Now that's a school dance I'd actually go to.”

“You don't like school dances?” Jane says, quiet voice colored with curiosity.

“Nah, they're always cheesy,” Max smiles, rolling up onto her toes again to finally tape a section of the wires to the wall she's been examining. The spot is still mostly arbitrary, but the wires don't collapse on top of her immediately, which she takes as a good sign. “You get dressed up for no reason to go to a place you go five days a week already to put way too much pressure on a slow dance where you're about a foot away from each other anyway. I don't think any of us have been to a school dance since ninth grade, unless we had to help out for A.V.”

Jane hums again, thoughtful. “Dances always look like fun on television,” she says.

“Yeah, everything about high school looks more fun on television,” Max laughs, thinking of Lucas's comment about  _Keg parties and meaningless sex._  Jane doesn't answer, and Max glances down to see her watching her foot swing from beneath her thick lashes, teeth sunk into her abused lower lip. "As I'm sure you've noticed, by now," she adds, but her stomach twists a bit when Jane's foot skirts her ankle but she still won't meet her eyes. "Jane?" she says, soft enough that only her girlfriend can hear her.

Jane retracts her swaying boot and plants both feet on the floor, leaning forward in her chair to balance her forearms on her spread knees.  She still won't meet Max's gaze, but her voice is quiet and earnest and only for Max. "Is cheesy bad?"

Max pauses, and then sudden realization lifts her eyebrows of their own accord. “You want to go to the dance?” she blurts out before she can stop herself.

Jane glances up at her from beneath her mascaraed eyelashes, and Max has to blink her own lashes a few times dazedly before she can see well enough meet her gaze steadily. “I don't know,” Jane points out with a little, wry smile. “I've never been to one.”

“Oh,” Max says, surprised. "Yeah, no, that - that makes sense." She clamps her mouth shut, guilt twisting her insides where the warmth from Jane's touch had been only moments ago. She's always been dismissive of cheesy things like school dances, rolling her eyes at the drama and intensity it always seemed to bring to everyday things like what to wear and who talked to who, and she realizes now, watching Jane's cheeks pink beneath her pale make-up, that she'd just assumed that the tough, independent, punk Jane would feel the same way. Feeling the warmth from Jane's soft blush heat her own skin like the sun, she thinks to herself that she, of all people, should know of the softness beneath the blinding layers of Jane's constellations that she hasn't been allowed the opportunity to explore for most of her life. Basking in her glow even from an arms-length away, she thinks to herself, a bit dazedly, that since she has started dating Jane, cheesy things she'd thought she was immune to didn't seem to be so unappealing any more.

The thought brings her back to herself, and she gathers the wires in her arms and takes a step closer to Jane, burning up in her nearness. Jane still won't look at her, so she makes sure there's a smile in her voice when she whispers, "That came out wrong. What I meant to say was, Jane, do you want to go to the dance with me?"

Those tractor-beam eyes stay on her feet, but the familiar, slight twitch of one side of her mouth is enough to make Max's head spin, so dizzily she almost misses it when Jane answers her, quietly, "No."

Max has to stumble to catch the pile of wires in her arms before they drop to the floor along with her heart. "I'm - Oh. I thought - Is it because I said it was cheesy?"

Jane grins at that, and, despite the worry bubbling in the base of her stomach like the sea during a storm, Max is grateful that her girlfriend's face is still aimed at the floor so that she is not eviscerated on the spot from the heat of it. "No. That's okay. It's just because we can't go together."

"Oh." Max gives up on the pretense of the wires completely and dumps them on the stage, heart pounding painfully in her throat as she turns to pad towards the punk girl. "We can, you know. They don't check couples at the door. People will just think we're there without dates. We can just show up, and drink punch, and have fun together, and nobody needs to know we're together-together except for us."

Jane looks up at her from beneath her thick eyelashes when Max squats down in front of her chair, and she has to hastily plant a hand on the floor to stop herself from falling over in her awe. "Exactly," Jane whispers, tractor-beam eyes flickering from Max's eyes to her slightly-parted lips and back with a half-smile so soft Max feels her own lips twitch upwards despite the rejection. "The dances on T.V. always have hand-holding, and slow dancing, and kissing. Even if we went together, we couldn't be like that. Together-together."

Max sighs as heavily as her heart feels in her chest. She licks her lips as she tries to think of what to say, resisting the urge to reach out and take her girlfriend's hands. "Yeah, I know. It pisses me off, too."

Jane leans forward in her chair, balancing her elbows on her knees as she ducks her head to meet Max's eyes earnestly. "Max," she says softly, and waits until Max tilts her head upwards irresistibly to meet her gaze, like a sunflower to the sun, before she subtly tucks her thumb beneath the collar of her shirt to show Max the chain of her Christmas present hidden beneath. "It's okay," she whispers. "We know. That's enough. Better than a dance."

It takes Max a dizzy moment to realize the feeling of vertigo comes not from the sudden, uncontrollable racing of her heart propelling her into Jane's galaxy of stars, but from finally losing her balance and falling backwards onto the floor. Thankfully, two new voices choose this moment to call a greeting to them, and she turns her burning face to glare up at the interlopers as she pushes herself to her knees, grateful for the excuse.

"Hey, guys," Will says quickly, hurrying behind Tim Burkhart like he's trying to cut in front of him but not quite succeeding. His face is shining with anxiety, and Max is brought back to herself enough to climb shakily to her feet at his expression. "If you want to join the rest of the group, I can finish -"

"Hi, Max," Tim interrupts, not even sparing Will a glance. He stops beside Jane's chair, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans before he seems to change his mind and jerks them to hang by his side awkwardly.

"Hi," Max answers with the least-forced smile she can manage. She always tries to be nice to Tim - he mostly keeps to himself, besides to discuss club-related problem solving, and she's always felt a little bit bad for him - but kindness has never exactly been her strong suit, as is proven by the tomato-shade of red his face glows at her greeting. "Is club wrapping up?" she adds, glancing from Tim's blushing face to Will's worried one. She hasn't managed to do her only job of securing the wires, and she feels as if the meeting has only just started, but she knows that time with Jane always passes far too quickly, so she wouldn't be surprised if she'd wasted all of it.

"No," Tim says, and Max's eyes flicker back to him to find his still focused on her intensely. "Are you going to the dance?"

Max smiles, a little bit easier this time; for every school event, Mr. Hammond, the head of A.V. club, selected a few members to run whatever electronic systems the club has set up to make sure everything runs smoothly. Dances, in particular the notoriously- lame Valentines Day dance, were universally unpopular events to be assigned to, and the unlucky members who got stuck working it were teased mercilessly, usually by Max herself. "No, I managed to escape unscathed this time," she says to Tim. "Poor Mike and Lori got the short stick this year. The assignments are posted on the board in the A.V. room."

To her surprise, Tim starts, like he hadn't been expecting her to have an answer to his question. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Jane rise gracefully from her chair, and she's momentarily distracted for what is probably an awkward beat of silence before Will says, "Yeah, all the notices are posted in the A.V. room. If you didn't catch them on your way here, you could go take a look." He slides around Tim and walks towards Max and Jane, gesturing to the stage behind them. "You need a hand with any of that?"

Max raises her eyebrows at him. Will is usually one of the kindest and most accepting of the party to outsiders, after Dustin, and she's never seen him brush someone off so thoroughly before, but he seems utterly unaffected as he pads past her towards the tangle of wires on the stage. Jane turns to follow him without a word, and Max only spares Tim's retreating back a quick glance before she gives into the other girl's gravitational pull and turns on her heel to follow her friends.

By the time she reaches them, Will is shaking with silent laughter, and she rolls her eyes theatrically as she watches him pull the tangled mess of wires into his arms. "Yeah, laugh it up, nerd," she says, and her heart throws itself against her ribcage abruptly at Jane's quiet snicker. "You guys should know better than to leave me alone with all the wires and no plan, so this is your fault, really."

Will looks up at her quickly, and a grin spreads across his face as his eyes dart over her face in disbelief. "Jesus, Max," he says, and laughs a bit under his breath when she arches an eyebrow at him. "Are you serious? He was trying to ask you to the dance."

Her second eyebrow joins the first high up on her forehead, and her stomach frosts over as he hoists the wires in his arms with the shake of his head. "He's been talking to himself about doing it since the meeting started. I came over to try to help, so that it didn't turn into another Jake situation, but it looks like you didn't need it. Not that you usually need saving, but you kind of got blind-sided last time, and that wasn't fair."

Max winces, glancing over her shoulder to sweep the room with her eyes, but she doesn't see Tim anywhere. She should probably be guilty, considering how rude she'd been without realizing it, but all she feels is relief. "Shit," she sighs, shifting her hips as ducks her head to strategically hide her burning face from the rest of the room behind her waterfall of hair. "And they say Valentine's Day makes  _girls_  crazy. Do you think he got the message?"

"Well, if your complete shutdown of his question didn't do it, I think Jane trying to boil his blood with her eyeballs might have scared him off," Will grins, casting an amused glance at Jane as he starts to raise the wires in his hands to the wall again.

Jane  _hmph_ s. Max glances over at her to see her lifting her chin as she surveys the room, utterly unapologetic in her defense, and Max feels as if the lightening bolts of her powers are crackling over every inch of her skin at once. Her body flushes from the heat of it, and she sparks like a plasma ball, frozen in her spot despite the overwhelming warmth as she watches her girlfriend turn back to Will and lift her mesmerizing eyes to watch him carefully arrange the wires against the edge of the stage.

"I get it, though," Will is saying softly to Jane, inclining his head towards her even as he keeps his eyes on the wires in his hands. "Mike's going to be stuck in the lighting booth all night with a girl, and I know he doesn't want to be, but it still sucks. Especially because nobody besides us  _knows_  that it sucks."

"Can you go to the dance, too?" Jane whispers back, playing with the delicate chain peeking out of the collar of her shirt absently as she watches him do Max's job with the wires.

"There's no point," Will sighs. "Mike'll be stuck behind the scenes for pretty much the whole night. And it's not like he can buy me a Valentine's day rose and ask me to dance, or anything, even if he wasn't."

"I haven't been to a dance," Jane says, and Will glances briefly away from his work to flash her an understanding smile. "It's one of the things I'm not meant to do," she adds with a shrug.

 

Jane doesn't sound upset, or even resigned, which somehow makes it worse; she's stating a fact, a reality she's accepted despite all the odds she's already beat in her short but turbulent life. The warmth flowing over Max's skin is broken by the ice which sinks her stomach down to her toes for the second time in an hour, but this time, instead of slowing, her brain throws itself into desperate overdrive. A plan forms in her mind, so quickly and completely it's almost as if it doesn't come from her own thoughts at all, though it's hardly the first stupid, lovesick plan she's come up with just to make Jane smile, and she follows history instead of the blaring warning signs in her own mind and pulls Will to the side by his arm before she can talk herself out of it.

“Distract Jane for a minute for me, please?” she whispers, and then doesn't wait to see if his raised eyebrows are from confusion or confirmation before she drops his forearm and turns in a whirlwind of hair to jog away from the stage.

Thankfully, she finds Mike by the speaker system before she loses her nerve. “Hey, Sir Wheelington, I need a favor,” she says, catching up to his loping and throwing an arm around his shoulders without breaking stride.

“Yeah, yeah, I got the dopiest assignment of the school year, I know,” Mike grumbles, stopping at one of the tables to jab one of the connecting cables into the speaker outlets with more aggression than is probably safe for the expensive equipment. “Hilarious.”

It is a testament to how deeply she loves Jane that she swallows the millions of answers she has to that, especially with the action he's doing with his hand repeatedly. “Yeah, it bites,” she agrees, keeping her arm wrapped around his shoulders even though he's hunched over just enough to make the angle awkward. “Speaking of -”

“The one year I actually have someone I want to spend Valentine's with,” Mike mutters like she hasn't said anything, glaring at the cable in his white-knuckled hands like he's trying to channel Jane's powers. “That dance goes on forever, and A.V. members have to stay until the end and then clean up the equipment afterwards, I'm not going to get out of there until, like, midnight.  _And_ , not only is Will disappointed, but I get to hear the rest of the party's  _hilarious_  comments about it for the rest of the week.” He twists the connector inside the socket, and the speaker makes a deafening crackle which makes Max start so suddenly she loses her hold on him.

“We are pretty hilarious,” Max agrees, turning to lean her backside against the speaker table. Mike grimaces and doesn't look up from his fiddling with the speaker outlet, so Max takes pity on him. “What would you say if you could have the night free and make fun of me all week to your heart's content, instead?”

That makes Mike pause, but the expression on his face when he finally looks up at her is more suspicious than the excitement she'd been hoping for. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about you being free to woo Will to the fullest extent of your nerdy, lukewarm capabilities,” she says, and grins at the reflective scowl on his face. “I'll take the dopey assignment, and the mocking, and you take Will to... Well, probably your basement, since you can't really explain away going out anywhere on Valentine's day, but you get him to yourself, anyway.”

“Why?” Mike says suspiciously, but he straightens slowly and drops the cords he'd been holding a death-grip on a moment ago.

“Jane,” she says, simply, but his face relaxes immediately with understanding at the word. “She's never got to have any sort of normal high school experience like this, lame or not, and I have a plan to give her one without putting us in danger of anyone else knowing we're being lame together.”

“By dragging her along on the dopiest A.V. job of the year?” Mike says, but grins when she rolls her eyes and punches him in the shoulder. “Yeah, of course, Max,” he continues, softer, and his eyes on hers are warm before they drop to the connecting cables he bends over to start fiddling with much more gently than he had been a few minutes ago. “Will and I'll always help you guys out.”

“Yeah, because you're being so selfless giving up this job,” she says with an eyeroll, but her heart pounds so wildly she's propelled forward off of the table by the force of it. She purses her lips to hide her grin, resisting the almost-insurmountable urge to look over her shoulder at her girlfriend, and she can't even begrudge Mike the knowing look he gives her. “You're welcome, by the way,” she adds quickly, crossing her arms across her chest in a way she hopes looks less defensive than she feels.

It probably doesn't, because Mike just grins at her and drops his gaze back down to the complex web of cables he's weaving. “Don't think this will get you a pass on the relentless mocking, at least when Jane's not around,” he says, and her snort is more from relief than laughter. “What's your plan, then?” he adds, dropping to his knees in front of the speaker outlet with the serious concentration of a doctor preparing to begin brain surgery.

Heart fluttering as nervously in her chest as a dragonfly's wings, Max grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *jazz hands* anybody remember this fic??? I'm so sorry, I promise the next update is half-written and won't take a month to update!!! I hope people are still reading this yike  
> This chapter is dedicated to @transmikewheeler!!! thanks for sticking with these useless lesbians for 30+ chapters!!!<3  
> I missed you guys so much!!! it might take me a few days to answer all the comments but every single one means so much to me!!! thanks for reading, I'll be back with Max's Valentine's plans soon!!!<3


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry in advance to @yuzu and @stanleyvris alsjdksldjfklgh;jf

It's hard to tell which of them looks more pleased with themselves when Max shoulders her way out of the crowd to lean against the locker next to Jane's, utterly failing at looking casual. “Anything interesting happen this Valentine's day morning?” she says, rolling her head back to look up at the ceiling so that she doesn't meet her girlfriend's eyes and risk spontaneous combustion.

“Yes,” Jane says, so quiet Max can barely hear her over the bustle of the busy hallway around them even though she's standing so close their shoulders are dangerously close to brushing, and there's a smile in her voice. “The strangest thing.”

“Oh?” Max says, voice an octave higher than normal as she distributes all of her willpower between training her eyes on the ceiling and keeping the wide grin off of her face. “What was that?”

“A rose,” Jane murmurs, and Max props one foot up against the locker behind her, just for something to do with all the nervous energy vibrating through her at the softness colouring her voice. “In homeroom.”

Max's heart throws itself recklessly against her ribcage, and she purses her lips in another hopeless attempt to smother her smug grin. “Huh. That is strange. Who was it from?”

“A secret admirer,” Jane says, and although she's keeping her tone neutral to play along with Max's charade, Max can hear the laughter in her voice now.

“Really,” Max says, putting far too much disbelieving emphasis on the word, and it's probably a good thing that no one in the hallway is actually paying attention to their conversation, because Jane's snicker breaks her resolve immediately and she grins so wide her blushing cheeks ache with it as she finally gives into her girlfriend's gravitational pull and turns her head.

Every year, the student council sold roses for students to purchase for each other and have delivered to their homeroom on Valentine's day. It was always a status symbol amoungst the popular girls, who received the most roses on Valentine's day, and although the idea was to send them to someone special, once the council had started offering an anonymous option their sales had gone through the roof, probably, Max suspected, from girls sending anonymous roses to themselves. She'd always rolled her eyes at the the whole idea, but since her revelation during A.V. Club she'd found herself thinking of Jane every time she came across something cheesy she would have mocked before, and sending an anonymous rose to her homeroom was only the beginning of what she'd indulged her softening heart in planning for her girlfriend for her first Valentine's day.

Jane is watching her from beneath her lashes when she finally turns towards her, facing her locker as she dutifully sorts through her books even as she watches Max out of the corner of her eye, and Max feels her knees melt under the heat of those starlit eyes so completely she has to lean against the locker behind her. “Thank you, Max,” she whispers.

“Hey, don't thank me,” Max whispers back, pressing her books to her burning chest to ground herself as she flashes the punk a girl a grin she hopes is less goofy than it feels. “Thank your anonymous benefactor. They seem pretty smooth, actually. Charming.”

Jane's mouth twitches up on one side. She pulls her own books to her chest and flickers her eyes to Max's lips for a split-second so searing Max feels the skin sizzle even once her gaze has dropped back to the contents of her locker. “Charming,” she echoes, and sinks her teeth into her abused bottom lip.

Max is so mesmerized, watching her tooth work away at the very-kissable curve of her lower lip, that she jumps when Jane slams her locker door shut. Jane's half-smile curls into a smirk, and Max flushes with her whole body as she hurries to follow her girlfriend into the stream of students. This is the only break between periods in the morning she has remotely enough time to walk Jane to class without being late, and she wants to take full advantage of it without risking detention on Valentine's day for not making it to her classroom on time. “You know, Valentine's day presents are usually flowers or candy. I wish the student council invested in candy, too, then you could really enjoy your present between classes.”

Jane glances at her out of the corner of her endless eyes, amused, and Max is giddily certain that the brush of their shoulders is not accidental from the jostling of the crowd around them. “Present you can eat.”

“Yeah, the best kind,” Max laughs. “I guess there's, like, rose tea, but it doesn't really compare with chocolate.”

Jane snickers behind her fist, and Max almost walks into the group of boys in front of them. “I like flowers,” she says, smile as soft as her voice.

Max glows. “Yeah, they're starting to grow on me, too,” she says, stupidly, and her eyes are drawn irresistibly to Jane's pink lips as they twitch up into another lopsided smile.

Jane's cheeks pink beneath her make-up, and Max basks in the warmth of it like she's the sun. “Hop said you could drive me home from school today,” she whispers.

Max swallows a grin; Chief Hopper knows about her plan for the night, or what details he needs to know that won't make him come looking for her at the school with a shotgun, but she's managed to keep it surprise from Jane so far despite their meddling friends and she isn't planning on ruining it now. “Yeah. That's cool. He didn't specify which route to take, did he? Because there's always the slight detour through the woods to the cabin that wouldn't technically be outside of the specifications of 'driving you home' if I eventually got you back to the trailer, afterwards.”

Jane laughs, the blinding burst of laughter so surprising she forgets to cover it, and Max blinks away white spots in her vision, not entirely certain her sneakers are still on the ground. “I don't think that's what he meant,” Jane whispers, belatedly raising her first to hide her intoxicating grin.

“Hmmm.” Drunk on her laughter, Max struggles to find another joke in her clouded mind to hear it one more time as they turn a corner and Jane's classroom comes into view all too soon. “Probably for the best. I don't really feel like freezing to death on a twelve-hour hike for Valentine's day.”

She isn't in any danger of freezing to death any time soon, however, if the countless suns blazing in her chest from Jane's proximity are any indication. “It wasn't even twenty minutes,” Jane smiles.

Max rolls her eyes at Jane's snicker, mostly to give herself a moment to recover. They're approaching Jane's classroom all too quickly, and she starts to feel panic grip her lovesick heart as her excuse to talk to Jane comes into sight. “Well, we'll have to do it again sometime, so that we can put this debate to rest. We'll know to time it, next time around."

Jane grins at her, unhindered and blinding. Max slows her steps in awe, and it takes her a few long, dreamy moments to realize that Jane does the same not because of her own sense of lovesickness, but because they have reached her classroom. "Next time," she says, voice soft as her endless eyes take in Max's flushed face from beneath her half-lowered lashes. "When Hop gives me the key," she adds.

"Tell him it's for science," Max says. The warning bell masks Jane's laugh, but even without the dizzying sound Max drinks in her expression, a moment of true, unadulterated glee as she tilts her head back so far Max catches a glimpse of her slightly-misaligned teeth she's felt with her tongue more often than she's seen them with her eyes, before she comes back to herself and covers her mouth with her hand.

"See you, Max," she says softly, grinning so wide it spills out from either side of her delicate fist, and she holds Max's glazed eyes until the moment she has no choice but to turn towards the row of desks when she backs into the classroom.

Max stays there, grinning in a way which would probably make Lucas smack her for being far too obvious about one of Jane's most important secrets, until a basketball-player friend of Lucas's crashes into her shoulder so forcefully she stumbles back into the thinning stream of students and can only reassure him with a slightly-hysterical laugh that she's not hurt before she has to take off running for her next class.

 

\---

She can't help the grin on her face even as she feels Jane's thumb slow in its adoring strokes across her knuckles. "Max," she says. "This is school."

"Yep," Max says, popping the  _P_  for emphasis. She glances out the side window, under the pretense of looking for a parking spot, but it's mostly to hide her amusement from her confused girlfriend in the passenger's seat.

Jane pauses, and then says, as if she isn't sure she'd made herself clear the first time, "This is _school_."

"It is," Max agrees. She turns the steering wheel with her free hand, squeezing her girlfriend's now-still fingers as she eases them into a parking spot. Jane squeezes back, her other cool little hand sliding over top of Max's to sandwich it between both of her own, but her grip is tighter than the affectionate hold she'd had only a moment ago.

"It's Valentines Day," Jane says.

"Is it?" Max says. Jane is silent, and Max can't help the sputter of a laugh which escapes her grinning lips before she throws the car into park and turns towards her girlfriend. "I know it is," she says, trying to assemble her own features into a serious expression when all she can think about is kissing the lines between Jane's furrowed eyebrows. "That's why we're here."

Jane's hands tighten around Max's. "I said I didn't want to pretend we weren't together at the dance," she says quickly.

Max's heart flutters with concern, and she reaches out for Jane's hands with the one still on the frozen steering wheel, pulling their joined hands up to her lips without thought. "Hey, I know," she says, and kisses Jane's scabbed knuckles with all the reverence she feels filling her lungs instead of air at her girlfriend's nearness. "We're not, I promise. This is part of my Valentines date plan for us. You've liked my plan so far, right?"

Even in the pale moonlight, Max can see Jane's faint blush, and she presses her own lips to the other girl's knuckles again as she watches Jane's twitch up into her little half-smile. Her lipstick has been mostly worn off by the activities Max had occupied her with in the backseat for the hours between the end of school and the start of the dance, and Max has to take a dizzy, gravity-less moment to stop her mind from clouding over from the memories they'd just been making and focus on the matter at hand. "I want you to have the best Valentines ever," she says softly, and returns Jane's answering full smile with one of her own. "Trust me?"

Jane bites her bare bottom lip and nods. Max's foolish heart tries to escape through her ribcage again, and she opens her mouth to say something undoubtedly stupid before the slamming of a car door makes them both jump. Max drops her hands guiltily and looks around the parking lot; it's still early, so the lot is still mostly empty, but the moon is bright enough that she can see the faces of the students jogging towards the school hand-in-hand, and she doesn't want to take any unnecessary risks.

Still, she can't help but grin as she turns back towards her girlfriend and admires the moonlight on her blushing cheeks. "Ready?"

Jane's starlit eyes drop to Max's lips for a split second, but she nods. Max winks and reaches down to pull the key from the ignition, heart pounding, but the heat from Jane's gaze on her bruised lips sparks another cautious thought somewhere within her clouded brain, and she pauses. "Oh, wait, that reminds me. Uh, your lipstick." Stupidly, she reaches up to tap her own bottom lip, as if Jane, the one who wears make-up, wouldn't know where lipstick goes, but Jane's beautiful eyes widen and she ducks her head to start rooting through her jacket pocket. Forcing herself to look away from the vision beside her, Max glances down to see her finger come away tinted pink, and she hurriedly reaches across Jane's lap to retrieve her package of Wet Wipes from the glove compartment. Their eyes meet as they dab at their faces, and the fit of giggles they burst into lasts until Max pushes open the school doors and waves Jane inside.

She can practically feel Jane tense behind her as she leads the way towards the pop music already blaring through the hallways, but she bites down her nervous smile and says nothing. Jane slows her steps as they approach the ticket table, but Max bumps her side with her elbow and leads the way around the line to the swinging door they'd used countless times for A.V. meetings. She can't help but glance at her girlfriend as they reach the steps leading up to the sound booth, curious to see what she thought of the plan her brain was now berating her for ever think Jane would like, but Jane is only frowning slightly, pensive, as she gamely starts climbing the stairs towards the closed door of the booth.

She freezes when she pushes the door open and Lori's excited voice greets her, and Max allows herself a small smile, even as her suddenly-sweaty hands slip over the doorknob twice before she gets a solid-enough grip to pull it closed behind them. "My hero!" Lori squeals, running forward to grab Jane by the wrists and pull her into the middle of the booth before Jane can even think to react. "Oh, Jane, you are a  _doll_ , you know that? I don't know why Hammond is such a nerd about giving you parts in A.V., you already have the  _spirit_  of the club in-"

"Thanks, Lori," Max interrupts, hoping her smile looks more friendly than amused as she tries to save Jane with a gentle tug from what looks like a blood-clotting grip without being too obvious. "The dance is starting, though, shouldn't you be down there to meet Landon by now?"

"Oh, yeah," Lori says breathlessly, whirling around to scrutinize her perfectly-coiffed natural curls in the reflection of the window barring them from the rest of the dance. "It's just, he's my first boyfriend, and getting stuck on dance duty for Valentines, I couldn't believe it. You're a life-saver, Jane, seriously."

"Yeah, seriously," Max echoes, trying to keep a straight face as Jane's wide eyes bounce back and forth between the two girls like she's watching a tennis match. "So you can go ahead, have so much fun tonight. Say hi to Landon for us."

"I will," Lori says breathlessly, and Max's smile softens a bit at the nervousness in her voice. "How's my lipstick?"

"Great," Max says, giving her a slightly-awkward thumbs up. Lori doesn't seem to notice, as she only beams at her and then at Jane, gracing them with one last enthusiastic wave before she bustles out of the booth and down to the party.

Jane is already staring at her when she turns back to her girlfriend after locking the door behind Lori. Max blushes, weirdly aware of how secluded they are from the pounding base behind the door. "Happy Valentines Day?" she says weakly.

Jane furrows her eyebrows in a way which is dangerously reminiscent of Chief Hopper, and Max stumbles forward, hurrying to explain. "I know we can't go to the dance, together-together, but I really wanted to give you the best experience Valentines Day has to offer, without any of the dumb drama, or drawing extra attention to us.  Just because we have to tweak it a bit doesn't mean we can't have a date together, or whatever normal teen-age stuff couples do. We can't do it in front of everyone, but it's not about everyone. It's about you. Everyone should have a cheesy Valentines day, and you, especially, should have whatever kind of cheese you want."

Jane's stunning features have softened into a small smile, and Max reaches out to take her hands, bolstered. "We took over the tech jobs for the lighting and music, so we have to pay attention sometimes, but we can see and hear everything the dance has to offer, and no one can see us. So we can dance, and hold hands, and kiss, at the cheesy Valentines dance. Together-together."

Jane steps forward, dark eyes mercifully watching their joined hands swing between them, as Max is certain she would melt to yet another mysterious stain on the sound booth carpet if that gaze was focused on her fully. "Together-together," Jane whispers, and Max finally allows her heart to lift with hope. "You don't mind being hidden with me?"

Max swallows the excess saliva in her mouth. "I can deal," she says, but her voice waivers a bit, and from the amused look in Jane's eyes when she finally does lift those starlight eyes to look at Max from beneath her lashes, she understands what Max is trying to say.

Max is kept from melting by Jane lifting one cool palm from Max's up to her cheek as she leads her forward for a soft kiss. Heart pounding deafeningly in her ears, she almost misses it when Jane says, "How did you do all this?"

Max answers a beat too late, so focused on figuring out how to blink her eyes open again. "Mike practically jumped for joy when I asked," she says, and the puff of breath from Jane's snicker brushes Max's tingling lips when Jane leans their foreheads together. "Lori I thought was going to be harder, since I couldn't just tell her why I wanted you to have her job, especially since you're technically not allowed to do the job since you can't touch the equipment, but she didn't want to do it, anyway. I acted like we were willing to do this big favor for her, since we like her and Landon so much, and she threw in doing set-up and tear-down before and after the dance is done to sweeten the deal for you."

Jane snorts, and they're both smiling too widely when she leans in for another kiss, but they make it work anyway. Max sighs shakily when Jane pulls back just far enough to breathe, and the redhead runs her hands reverently over both of Jane's blushing cheeks before she steps backwards reluctantly. "So this is an okay Valentines?" she says, running her palms down Jane's arms to wind their fingers together again.

Jane bites her lower lip, and as Max's dazed eyes drop to watch she hopes, vaguely, that Jane has remembered to bring her lipstick with her for when they need to leave the booth at the end of the night. "More than okay," Jane whispers, and Max's undoubtedly-bruised ribs ache when her heart throws itself against it yet again in desperation. "Thank you, Max."

"You don't need to thank me," Max smiles, squeezing her fingers. "I wanted to."

"Even though it's cheesy?" Jane teases, eyes bright with the endless galaxies inside of them as they flit over Max's face.

Max laughs, lifting one hand to cup her sharp jawline with shaky awe. "I'm starting to see the appeal of cheese," she says, and Jane snickers without covering her mouth. "Oh, that reminds me, actually." She winks at Jane and pulls back, tugging her forward with the hand still entwined with her own as she leads her over to the sound board. "It's not Chinese, but I had to hide it here this morning before school started, so you probably wouldn't want it if it was. I'm not really a cook, but, uh, I mastered the art of sandwiches as a young Padawan. Besides, there's desert, which is what we both know we're going to start with, anyway." She reaches down to pull the backpack she'd stored in a cupboard beneath the soundboard and turns back towards Jane, cursing her full-body blush which is undoubtedly brighter than the hair she's trying to duck behind.

She doesn't get a chance to see Jane's reaction, because the punk girl tugs her forward and kisses her deeply before she's managed to turn all the way around. Max sighs, stepping so close her feet are nestled between Jane's, and she lifts her hands to grip the lapels on Jane's leather jacket, sinking into the kiss. Jane sucks her bottom lip between both of her own hard enough to leave a mark and reaches up to bury her hands in Max's hair, and whether from eagerness to get closer to her or dizziness from being lost in Jane's galaxies, Max stumbles and the bag of food she's still holding swings forward to hit Jane's stomach. Jane gives a little  _Oof_  against her lips, and Max drops the bag onto their feet in her hurry to get rid of it. Jane is laughing into their kiss, and she kicks the bag away and cups Max's blushing cheeks to pull her in for a deep, world-tilting kiss when she tries to back away, and then another, and then another, and then Max has forgotten why she would ever want to leave Jane's arms at all and she's kissing her back.

They're panting for breath, sweaty foreheads pressed together as their hands explore the curve of spines and dip of waists, when the bouncy dance beat ends and familiar strains of Phil Collins's Two Hearts pour through the speakers. Max grins, and bit drunkenly, and she pulls back to stand ramrod straight, holding out her hand as if she's a gentleman in a three-piece suit from one of Lucas's mother's telenovellas. "Would you care to dance?" she says.

Jane smiles and takes her hand. Max leads her to the middle of the room, and her heart pounds when Jane steps into her arms again. "Had to pick the cheesiest song," she murmurs in Jane's ear as they start to sway.

She feels Jane laugh more than hears it. "Starting to see the appeal," she whispers.

Max grins and kisses her temple. They turn slowly, bodies rocking with the flow of the music, disco ball lights from behind the one-way glass glittering over their entwined bodies, and the song starts to feel like more than chance when she feels Jane's heart hammering against her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is dedicated to @The_Fanfic_Mormon who leaves detailed comments which I think about so much I wish I could print them out and tape them to my wall for inspiration!!! Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoy your chapter!!!<3  
> I haven't had much time on the internet so I'm sooo sorry about comments but I swear to you guys I'm going to answer them tomorrow!!! I love you all and can't wait to return your comments to tell you how much individually!!!<3


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for discussions of emotional and physical abuse

Despite the bright early-March light illuminating the clear sky above them, the sun only truly rises when Jane opens the trailer door and her face lights up. “Max,” she beams, and reaches out to pull the other girl over the threshold with a hand on each wrist.

“Hey,” Max smiles. She allows herself a long moment to drink in Jane's face, letting the power of her galaxies of suns warm her own frozen skin for the first time that morning.

She must indulge herself too long, because Jane's expression flickers and she steps closer, intoxicating brown eyes searching Max's hungry ones. “Max?” she says again, this time the name coloured with the exact question Max doesn't want to answer.

So Max repeats, “Hey,” and this time she drops Jane's hands and cradles her pink cheeks to pull her into a hard kiss.

Jane's lips are already slightly parted in her confusion, so it's easy for Max to slide her tongue over them to find the other girl's. Max squeezes her eyes shut, shaking gratefully as every sense is filled gloriously with Jane, and she's concentrating so hard on feeling ever second of it that she stumbles forward a bit, disoriented, when Jane breaks away from her kiss with a sharp little gasp.

“Max,” Jane says, covering Max's hands on her cheeks with her own cooler ones. Max keeps her eyes closed, tilting her face blindly towards the sound of her voice. “Hop's not home.”

“Even better,” Max says throatily, and pulls her in for another deep kiss.

Their lips mash together more than anything, but Max still presses closer, searching for more of her. Jane steps into her, the hint of the hills and plains of her body through her worn pyjama t-shirt enough to make Max's frigid skin light up almost to the point of pain, but her gentle hands covering Max's lift to smooth down thick red hair before she eases away from Max's artless, insistent lips, though she doesn't move their bodies even an inch apart.

“Max?” she whispers, caressing Max's hair tenderly, even as she keeps their lips apart just far enough that they're not touching.

“You don't want to kiss me?” Max says, and her voice breaks.

Jane is still close enough that she brushes Max's tingling skin when she bites down into her lower lip. She leans their foreheads together, and Max can't quite bring herself to open her eyes to meet the serious gaze she knows is focused onto her. “I always want to kiss you,” Jane says quietly. “I just want you to want to be kissing _me_.”

Max winces. She lets Jane slide her soft little palms over her neck and down her chest as she steps away, but her aching heart lifts irrepressibly when Jane weaves their fingers together between their bodies. “What's wrong?” Jane whispers earnestly.

Max's heart picks up speed like a frightened rabbit's. “What makes you think that something's wrong?” she says with the faux-casual laugh she reserves for Lucas's all-too-knowing looks, but her voice is tight and her body is fighting so hard to give into Jane's force of gravity and throw herself as close as she can that it shakes, and she curses herself for thinking that she could ever hide anything from those endless, tractor-beam eyes.

Judging by Jane's deadpan expression, she doesn't think she can, either. Those tractor-beam eyes scrutinize Max's blushing face for a long moment, calculating, before she takes a step backwards and drops their joined hands. “Take off your jacket and shoes,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest when Max tries to reach for her hand again automatically.

“Chief Hopper said I wasn't allowed to come in when he wasn't here,” Max points out, even as she begins kicking off her boots and shrugging her heavy coat off of her shoulders immediately. She'd been intending on asking Jane to come for an aimless drive with her, anywhere they could be alone, but all her frozen brain seems to be able to focus on now that she's in Jane's overwhelming presence is getting as close as possible, and she can't seem to make her lips form the words to ask.

Jane only rolls her eyes at her warning. She barely waits until Max has stepped out of her boots before she reaches for her hand and turns without a word, pulling her girlfriend effortlessly in her wake. Max slows her steps automatically as they reach the couch, but Jane leads them past the living room without a glance and Max finds herself blushing as she follows the other girl down the narrow hallway and into her bedroom.

Jane kicks the bedroom door closed behind them without dropping Max's hand and pulls her towards the bed. Just like the last time they'd been in Jane's bedroom, when they'd been studying for their chemistry test, Max feels her palms start to sweat and her knees shake as they approach the bed, and, just like last time, Jane appears utterly unconcerned as she tosses the magazines she'd had piled on top of her blankets to the floor and pulls Max downwards in their place. Helpless under her power, Max collapses on her back on top of the blankets while Jane balances her weight on their joined hands and reaches for the boombox sitting on the dresser at the end of the bed. Muted guitar riffs begin floating from the speakers, the volume turned so low it's barely audible over the buzzing in Max's ears, and Jane sinks down onto the mattress beside Max like they've been doing it for years, lithe body fitting against Max's side effortlessly as she tilts her head upwards to catch her gaze.

“Tell me,” Jane whispers, relentlessly holding wide blue eyes with earnest brown ones.

Max sighs. Inevitably, her hand rises to trail along the warm curve of Jane's waist, and she knows that, despite whatever plan she'd had on her way to the trailer, despite years of practice and training herself not to tell, she's going to tell Jane. “It's not that big of a deal,” she tries.

Jane's eyebrows furrow, but otherwise she doesn't answer. Max drops her eyes to watch her hand map the dip of Jane's waist, both because she's in awe that she's allowed this simple touch, and she can't quite handle the thought of watching Jane's expression change when her tractor-beam eyes pull the words out of her reluctant mouth.

“My step-dad's coming back into town,” Max says.

Jane's whole body tenses. She shifts slightly so that she's leaning half-over Max's prone form, and Max's eyes flit upwards to meet hers irresistibly before she can control herself. “Was he with your step-brother?” Jane says quickly, voice tense as she searches Max's eyes anxiously.

“No, no,” Max says quickly, raising one hand to cup her girlfriend's sharp cheekbone. She's drowning in Jane's beautiful, endless eyes, and she doesn't think about the words anymore as they tumble from her lips. “I haven't heard from Billy since you heroically kicked his ass out of town. My step-dad's not in contact with him any more. He just spends most of his time out of town, on business trips.”

Jane's shoulders relax infinitesimally, but her mesmerizing eyes are still anxious. “You said he wasn't like your step-brother,” she whispers.

“He's not,” Max says. She slides the palm cradling Jane's cheek backwards to card her fingers through soft brown curls. Jane hasn't gelled her hair yet, and the overhead light shines through her weightless curls like a halo. “He's a whole other kind of psycho.”

Jane leans down to press their foreheads together. Her right thigh skates along the inseam of Max's as she settles half on top of her, and Max ruminates, somewhere in her numbed mind, on how she should be on fire right now. “Max,” Jane says urgently, and Max's eyes drop from the light filtering through her hair to her wide, dark eyes like a compass needle finding north. “You said – You said he doesn't hurt you.”

“He doesn't,” Max says quickly. She lifts both hands to frame Jane's beautiful face, thumbs stroking along the sharp curves of her cheekbones as she holds her gaze to let her see the truth of her words in her eyes. “He did hurt Billy, and Billy hurt me, but Neil himself never went after me. It's not how he kept me in line.”

Jane nuzzles her cheek into Max's right hand. She's blocking the overhead light, filling Max's vision as she hovers just far away enough that Max can feel her breath across her own lips. “What did he do?” she whispers.

Max shrugs. “I was a kid, and I was scared of him. My parents fought all the time, but I'd never seen violence in the house before we moved in with Neil and Billy. My mom's a grown-up, and she got scared of him, too, when he started yelling or grabbing Billy, and seeing that made me even more afraid. I was younger, and a girl, and Neil doesn't exactly have progressive ideas on girls, so I was mostly my mom's problem, but he used to take away the door to my bedroom if he thought I was hiding something from him, or make me strip in the living room and take my clothes away if he thought I was trying to leave the house in something that was less than appropriate. He said he was 'protecting' me. He only had to mention I was doing something he didn't like for me to be terrified of doing it again... Not that it stopped me. I was scared around him, but when he was at home I sure learned how to be sneaky.”

She grins at Jane, as best she can, but Jane doesn't smile back. Those galaxy-filled eyes flit over Max's face, lingering on each detail with the utmost concentration like she's memorizing it, and Max jumps a little bit when her gaze jumps back up to meet her eyes; she hadn't realized how long it had been since she'd spoken, so mesmerized was she by watching Jane watch her. “But he left, like Billy?” Jane whispers.

Max swallows and shakes her head. “He didn't leave, officially. He started going on business trips for work, and they got longer and longer. Now, he's gone more often than he's home. He's always away for long periods of time; I just assumed he was cheating on Mom, but we are getting more money, so he must really be doing something business-related. It doesn't really matter; she won't say it, but Mom's happier when he's gone, and we're used to doing our own thing while he's away by now. It's so much easier to breathe when he's not home that I almost have time to get used to it before he comes back.”

The light from Jane's constellations of stars shines out hypnotizingly from beneath her lashes, still dark and thick even without her usual mascara. “But he's coming back,” she says softly.

“Yeah,” Max sighs. She trails one thumb along the defined edge of Jane's cheekbone, falling in love all over again from the simple fact that wherever she looks at Jane, she sees something else to fall deeper in love with. “He's coming back.”

Jane tilts her head, considering. “Do you want to stay here?” she says.

Max barks a laugh before she can stop herself. “Yeah, Chief Hopper's no-sleeper policy will be really thrilled with that,” she teases, long-lost grin finally emerging as she drinks in Jane's endless eyes like she'll never get enough of them.

Jane's serious expression doesn't falter, though, and Max sighs after a moment, burying her fingers in silky curls. “It's okay, Jane,” she says quietly, guilt creeping up the back of her throat like bile as she stares up into her girlfriend's earnest eyes. “I told you, he doesn't hurt me. It just kind of... Sucks.”

Jane makes a face. Her eyes flicker away, thoughtful, and she shuffles her weight a bit so that her upper body is fully hovering tantalizing inches above Max's. “When I was at the lab, it wasn't Papa who hurt me. It was his science team. Bad men.”

It's Max's turn to grimace. She drops her eyes from Jane's face and wriggles away, clearing her throat a few times before she can speak through the guilt which now threatens to close up her throat completely. “Yeah, no, I'm sorry. Shit. You lived through hell, I don't know why I'm telling you this like it matters-”

“Max,” Jane interrupts hurriedly. She huffs irritably when Max ducks her head and keeps shuffling away, and suddenly Max is gasping for air for a very new reason when Jane's full body weight plunks onto her stomach as the punk girl straddles her in one smooth movement.

“Max,” Jane says, pinning her to the bed with her relentless gaze as much as her body when Max meets her eyes again with bewilderment. “Not what I meant. Let me speak?”

“Uhh,” Max says, staring up at her like a deer in headlights. She drops her arms from her own chest to the bed again, but her hands skirt the outer curve of Jane's hips and then shoot above her head like she's being held at gunpoint. “Sure.”

Jane's teeth sink into her abused lower lip ponderously. “Papa never hurt me, himself, but he watched the others. He stood there while I was tasered, and beaten, and dragged to the punishment closet. They were his orders, and they were so well known that he didn't have to say them. But he hurt me, more than the bad men, because he called himself my Papa and then let them punish me. He told me to trust him, that if I only listened to him they wouldn't have to hurt me, but he made it happen again and again. He didn't have to touch me, to hurt me. Your step-dad, he still hurt you, like Billy. Understand?”

Despite six months of feeling her heart's attempts to break through her chest to reach its true home, Max doesn't think she's ever felt it try as desperately as it is in this moment. Her skin prickles, finally, with the full extent of Jane's warmth, and she finds yet another part of Jane's infinite galaxies to marvel at as the other girl stares down at her with a serious little frown on her naked face. The only thing Max can think to do is pull her down for a kiss – it's the only thing she's been able to think about since she'd heard the news about her step-father, because she doesn't have an ounce of Jane's boundless strength and kisses are easier than words – so she does, and Jane's lips are patient and willing as Max pulls her so close the bed sinks and creaks beneath the force of it. When Jane breaks the kiss, gentle and lingering and so much softer than Max's greedy mouth, Max gasps like she's been running, letting her eyes flutter closed for a long moment to watch Jane's suns glowing behind her eyelids.

“Sorry,” she pants, grimacing without opening her eyes. She lets her hands fall from her needy hold on Jane's back, arms framing her blushing face on the mattress. “Sorry, I – That's not what I came here for.”

“What is?” Jane whispers. Max still can't quite bring herself to open her eyes again, but she feels Jane shift to lean her weight onto one elbow beside Max's shoulder, still keeping her hips pinned with her own, and Max knows, if she were to open her eyes, those endless, dark eyes would draw out her words before she could think better of them.

At this thought, she lets her eyes drift open; even she isn't sure what she's about to say, and she's fairly certain that's why her clouded brain had brought her here to Jane's overwhelming presence in the first place. “I just want to be close to you,” she whispers, drifting in the boundless galaxies behind those wide, understanding eyes.

Jane's eyes dart away for a split-second, uncertain. “Max -”

“No, not _that_ close,” Max says quickly, and grimaces again as she feels her whole body blush. Jane snickers, and Max lets herself smile, feeling those warm, starlit eyes draw it out of her before she can even think of resisting. She lifts her arms to wind around Jane's back and gently guides her down to the bed beside her, shuffling so that they both lay on their sides facing each other with their legs still intertwined. “Just... Here, with you. I haven't been able to process this, all day, and I just want to be near you. Like this. You help, more than you know.”

Jane watches her from beneath her thick eyelashes, so dizzyingly close Max can barely feel the mattress beneath her as she drifts in her constellations. “I know,” she whispers, and Max's chest aches from the force with which her heart throws itself against her ribcage at the implication of her words.

Max blushes, stupidly; somehow, this moment feels more intimate than if they'd continued with what Jane had thought she'd come here for. “Thanks, for, uh – for listening. He was just home, at Christmas, but sometimes it just – Sometimes it's easier than others, and maybe I'm still carrying the stuff I didn't talk about then, too.” Jane nods, biting her lower lip as she runs her fingers through the thick red waves at Max's temple, and Max lets out a laugh which ends up being more of a shaky exhale. “Dads, huh?”

Jane snickers, shifting her shoulders to lean their foreheads together. “Hop's a good dad.”

“Yeah, seems like it,” Max says, a soft smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as she drinks in Jane's bare, closed eyelids so near their eyelashes could almost tangle together. “Good to know there's at least one around... Before I die at his hand when he comes home and finds us here.”

Jane grins, trailing a reverent hand over Max's cheek as the other girl blinks away white spots under the power of her smile. “He's at work all day.”

“Hmm, good,” Max says, vaguely, more focused on tracing the stunning shape of Jane's cheekbone with her eyes than on what she's saying. She hadn't really had a plan when she'd come to Jane, finding herself driving and turning up on the trailer's doorstep out of instinct more than any sort of specific request she could ask of the other girl, but Jane, as always, has managed to meet and exceed her needs, even when she hadn't known what they were in the first place. “So he doesn't need to know I'm breaking one of his thousands of rules.”

“No,” Jane smiles, but then her face lights up like the first dazzlingly-beautiful burst of sunlight over the California skyline. “Do you want to tell Hop?”

“I think that kind of puts a cramp in the 'Chief Hopper doesn't know I'm here' part of the plan,” Max smirks, running an adoring thumb over the curve of Jane's cheek so that she can resist the urge to shield her eyes like she's looking directly at the sun.

“Max, I'm serious,” Jane says, propping herself up onto one elbow as she hovers over Max's slack face, glowing with purpose. “Don't go while your step-dad's home. Hop won't be mad if he knows why. He'll protect you.”

She says it with such certainty, this girl who has lived with terror and violence for most of her life so sure that no harm can come to anyone her adoptive father takes under his protection that she states it as if it's an inevitable fact, and Max gives herself a moment to silently thank Chief Hopper for whatever he's done to make her boundless dark eyes shine with such conviction. “It's okay, Jane,” she says softly, reaching up to push back the glossy curls which have fallen into Jane's eyes with her movements. “I don't need him to protect me like you do.”

Jane's brows furrow adorably, wide eyes earnest as they search Max's glazed ones. “I want to protect you.”

“You already do,” Max says, and then feels herself shake as the truth of her words reverberates through her body. She grins, and Jane's forehead wrinkles almost as deeply as her adopted father's in her confusion. “You already are. I'm so close to getting out of that house – Once I'm finally eighteen, and I move to California, I don't have to follow all of his stupid, uptight rules anymore. I don't have to play his game, or anyone's game. I just need to make it to then.”

“The end of the school year?” Jane whispers, concern lighting her breath-taking eyes as she leans their foreheads together.

“Well, yeah,” Max smiles. “But let's concentrate on getting through this week.”

“You want me to stop him, instead of Hop?” Jane says. She gently lowers her body weight on top of Max and nuzzles into the blanket beneath their heads, frowning thoughtfully. “Hop said not to use my powers to hurt someone in a small town where it can be traced back to me.”

Max laughs, surprised, and her heart flutters madly when she feels both of their bodies shake with it. “As awesome as your powers are, that's not exactly what I meant,” she grins, and Jane's wide, doe eyes finally smile back at her. “I just meant you. This. I love Mage Jane the Powerful, or whatever idiotic name Dustin gave you, but you protect me with more than your telekinetic superpowers. I just need your girlfriend superpowers, to get through this week.”

More radiant than the sun, Jane beams back at her. “I can do that.”

“Yeah, you can,” Max grins, stupidly, and then finally closes the few inches between their smiling lips and kisses her as tenderly as she feels, bathed in her sunlight. Jane wriggles closer and sighs against her lips, and finally, finally, there's nothing in her clouded mind except for Jane's intoxicating, familiar warmth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know if anyone wants this downer of a chapter dedicated to them so i'm dedicating it to my girlfriend again, who has the most amazing girlfriend superpowers. shout out to @djjenni, too, who wanted them to have emotional discussions about their feelings and traumas; they usually end up talking about el's so i hope you enjoy max's turn<3  
> and just bc i'm going all in on being a bummer: i've been getting some,,, uncomfortably suggestive messages and offers from people on here, and i'm told that i don't come off as young, so I just want to be clear: i'm 15 years old and in a monogamous relationship. i'm not looking for any attention outside of friendship and i'm sorry if i ever make anybody feel like i am. i'd love more elmax friends!!! but friendship is all i can give and i don't mean to trick anyone with my age. i don't have a blog or profile or anything so sorry for having to post this on here, but hopefully this clears things up and we can avoid more misunderstandings for everybody!!!  
> that being said i appreciate everyone who still bothers to read this, sorry it's taking so long!!! school is kicking my ass but i'm still writing every second that i can and i'm so grateful for every one of you!!!<3


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys come here for a good time so here's lesbians being lovesick instead of sad alslfhgfl;hgf

Even though they've been working on it for the past ten minutes, the party still jumps at the loud crack of the confetti cannon they've crudely constructed when Will and Mike walk into the A.V. classroom.

“Happy birthday!” Dustin cries, throwing his hands into the air like they're at a pep rally. Dustin has always been the most enthusiastic of the party about birthdays, especially as they've gotten older and would have moved away from organized birthday parties altogether were it not for his emphatic insistence, and each of them is familiar enough with being the subject of his overblown birthday planning that no one had batted an eye when they had walked into the club meeting on Will's birthday to find him surrounded by library books filled with blueprints.

Everyone, of course, except Jane. “Birthday cannon,” she repeats under her breath, and then frowns when she pulls the string on the confetti cannon again and nothing happens.

“You only really get one shot with this thing,” Lucas explains, grinning at her annoyed expression as he brushes the colorful slips of paper they'd cut into confetti-size off of his shoulder. “It's not exactly the most advanced machine.”

“What's it made out of?” Mike says curiously, as he and Will finally reach the party at their cluster of desks in the corner of the classroom.

“Paper towel roll and a spring, mostly,” Lucas says, reaching up to pull a string of confetti out of Max's red waves. “It doesn't really get the same force and range as the ones at the football games or whatever, but you don't want one of those going off inside.”

“We probably could have gotten more velocity just chucking confetti with our hands when you walked in,” Max points out, running her fingers through her hair in search of more confetti pieces, and Lucas smirks at her.

“Hey, don't insult our impressive scientific achievement,” Dustin protests, pausing in picking through the curls escaping his baseball cap to frown at Lucas. “Just because it was _my_ creation -”

“Jane and I did _literally_ all the actual building, you just brought the library books,” Lucas retorts. “In fact, we built an 'impressive scientific achievement' _despite_ your contribution, not because of it -”

“This is really cool,” Will says, turning the confetti cannon over in his hands with interest, and Lucas and Dustin mercifully stop their squabble to turn back towards their friend. “Thanks, guys.”

“I stole the parts from A.V. inventory, because the rest of your friends are big babies, so happy birthday,” Max says, clapping him on the shoulder. “My contribution to science,” she adds to Dustin with a grin, and he rolls his eyes at her as the rest of the party laughs.

“We'll have more than a confetti cannon at your actual birthday party,” Mike adds, dark eyes softening as Will's lift from the cannon to meet his. “Cake and presents and stuff.”

“Yeah, it sucks that your birthday is on a school day this year,” Dustin says, apparently recovering enough from his slight to hop down from the desk he's been perched on and wrap an arm around Will's shoulders. “It seems like your eighteenth birthday party should be on your actual eighteenth birthday.”

“Except that all of us have so much schoolwork we shouldn't even be at A.V. right now, let alone partying tonight,” Max says, and Will grins at her while Lucas and Dustin groan in agreement. “Besides, now that you're an old man, why would you want to party with us young whippersnappers?”

“You kids today and your confetti cannons,” Lucas says, dramatically dropping his voice in a terrible impression of an old man, and he pretends to wave an imaginary cane at them as they all laugh.

“I'll remember that on all your eighteenth birthdays,” Will says with a grin, and raises his hands with a laugh when everyone besides Mike and Jane reach out to muss his hair teasingly.

“So, Saturday?” Dustin says once Mike has defended his boyfriend and pushed their hands away. “Max'll drive us all to Will's around three?”

“Maybe we should meet at the arcade,” Max suggests, tilting her head towards Lucas's hand to let him pull another piece of confetti from her hair. “If we all go together from Will's, it's one more trip Chief Hopper has the opportunity to pull me over for not having enough seatbelts. Jane says he'll be off-duty in the evening.”

“Oh, you should tell him to come over and hang out with my mom again, if he's free,” Will says to Jane with a small smile. “She softened him enough to let you stay for most of New Years, maybe she can get him to let you sleep over this time.”

“You'd probably be allowed if _he_ gets to _sleep over_ ,” Dustin says with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows, and throws up his hands in mock celebration when the party _boos_ and Lucas tosses the confetti he's collected from Max's hair in his general direction with a look of disgust.

Jane, however, looks from Will to Dustin with wide, interested eyes. “I can ask him. Do I bring anything?”

“Just a present,” Dustin says, brushing the new flurry of confetti off of his shoulder with a cheerful smile. “And some money, since we're going to the arcade and then the movies. These assholes claim we're 'too old' for the awesome parties we used to have, where we'd actually go somewhere, so you don't have to prepare as much as you'd think.”

Jane shrugs. “I don't know how to prepare. I've never been to a birthday party before.”

No matter how many different ways she hears Jane has been denied life events everyone else had always took for granted, Max's heart still drop painfully to the scuffed soles of her shaking sneakers. The rest of the party seems to have the same reaction as she does, pausing in horror long enough to make Jane's eyes jump to Max's with uncertainty, but Dustin, as always, finds his voice first. “Never?” he says, aghast, straightening his cap over his confetti-dusted curls as he takes a step towards Jane. “Not even with your – your _other_ friends?”

He raises his eyebrows significantly, like he's speaking in secret code, and Max recovers enough to roll her eyes at him as she shoves him out of the way to pad towards Jane. “No,” Jane answers Dustin, flashing Max a tiny, disorienting smile before turning towards the boy whose jaw has dropped almost as low as Max's heart. “We didn't know what date it is, for me or Kali. We don't even know age what we are. Just con-jec-ture. The others had bad memories associated with their birthdays, and we didn't keep track of days or month. We didn't have any parties to celebrate, just what Kali called 'improving morale,' which I think means drinking alcohol and smoking weed.”

The party laughs at that. Max takes the excuse to wrap what is hopefully a friendly-looking arm around her shoulders, and then is promptly set on more-than-friendly fire from Jane's answering shy smile. “Hey, that's a great idea. Will, are we going to be 'improving morale' at your party?”

Max feels Jane's snicker vibrate through her body more than she hears it. Mike rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to answer, but Mr. Hammond calls for the club's attention, and Max reluctantly tries to ease away from Jane as casually as possible as they all turn towards him.

“We've got a couple different stations set up today,” Mr Hammond says once the murmuring of the classroom dies down. “Those of you working for credit, I want you to do all the steps of one of the projects. You're welcome to tinker around with as many of the machines as you like, but you'll get your completed credit when you demonstrate that you understand every step of the maintenance of _one_ machine. Choose wisely. I recommend examining each station before committing. I'll be around to answer any questions, but this should be old hat for most of you at this point. Go ahead and collect your tools, and don't be afraid to go digging to figure out the why of how your machine's constructed.” He waves his hands at them, and the low hum of voices picks up again as students cluster and slowly begin their way towards the front of the classroom.

“Max and I'll grab the tools for everyone,” Dustin says loudly before anyone else in the party can move, and he grabs the hood of Max's sweater and yanks her away from Jane without further explanation. Max stumbles, surprised, and Dustin wraps a surprisingly-strong arm around her shoulders as he leads her away from their friends.

“What the hell, Dustin?” Max hisses. She massages her throat pointedly, even though her reaction had been more from surprise than pain. “Just because you're more of a tool than the supplies -”

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Dustin says in a stage whisper, even though they're so far away from their friends that no one could hear them even if he'd shouted over the loud chattering of their classmates.

Max glares at him out of the corner of her eye, shrugging his heavy arm off of her shoulders. “That we don't know which tools to grab yet, since we don't know which station everyone's going to pick?”

“We have to throw a birthday party for Jane!” Dustin hisses, eyes wide with excitement as he emphasizes every word with a wave of the hand not holding Max hostage.

“Oh.” Max glances over her shoulder instinctively in Jane's general direction before looking back at Dustin with what she hopes is a softer expression; she had been thinking that. “Right. Yeah, I think we should, too.”

“A _real_ birthday party, like laser tag or the science museum or something,” Dustin rambles, apparently so lost in his enthusiastic whirlwind of planning that he's already forgotten her earlier rudeness. “And a surprise party, too. Not like your boring cake-and-video-games quote-unquote 'parties' you guys keep having that aren't any different from every other Friday night we spend together. She can see that shit at Will's party this week-end, but you have to have at least one real birthday – oh, go carts!”

Max rolls her eyes. “We'll keep thinking,” she says, and Dustin frowns at her. “But, yeah, we should do something big for her. Maybe a little bit of a bunch of stuff, so that she gets the whole experience in one day. I wonder what date her birthday actually is?”

“She said they didn't know,” Dustin points out, voice lowering more suspiciously than if he'd kept speaking at the same volume as they approach the drawers of tools most of the club is crowded around.

“Yeah, but Chief Hopper said he created documents for her,” Max whispers, letting her long hair flow over her shoulder to hide her face from the rest of the students as she bends over to pretend to sort through a drawer. “He had to have picked a birthday for her. Even if it's arbitrary, it's better than nothing.”

“What if it's far away?” Dustin complains, not bothering to pretend to search the drawers as he leans his shoulder against the wall beside her. “I'm not waiting months and months knowing my friend hasn't ever known the joy of a bowling and pizza party birthday.”

Max smiles down at the assortment of plugs she has no idea whether are relevant to any of the stations they're supposed to be gathering supplies for. “Don't worry. We'll focus on Will's eighteenth this week, and then you'll finally get to throw the giant, lame birthday party of your dreams.” Dustin waits until she straightens before punching her in the shoulder, and she doesn't try to hide her grin as she swats him back. “You're a good friend, Dustin,” she whispers, and then flicks his forehead to negate the softness of her words.

Dustin ducks away from her fingers with an unaffected grin. “I know,” he says, and laughs boisterously at her eyeroll. “Jane's the only one out of us assholes who deserves it, though.” Even though he's right, Max raises her fingers to his forehead to flick him again, and he catches her wrist with a laugh that shows off his pearls. “And you're a good g -” He pauses, eyes widening dramatically, and then glances around the classroom before mouthing to her, _girl_ , and then continues, like he thinks he's speaking in code again, “-friend.”

“Oh my god,” Max mutters. She makes sure he sees her deadpan expression before she turns away from him, opening a drawer at random just for something to look at. “Thanks, James Bond. Nothing gets away from you. Go find out what we're supposed to be looking for before you inadvertently end up inviting the government workers trying to find her to her surprise party.”

“Hey, you're the one blabbering about it, not me,” Dustin mumbles under his breath. “Also, why are you looking at extension cords when we're doing printer maintenance?”

Luckily, his life is saved by Mike leading Jane over to the supplies to show her the A.V. club's inventory, and Mike and Dustin's squabbling fades gloriously into background noise when Max rises automatically at the pull of Jane's gravitational force, and Jane releases the collected confetti pieces she's been surreptitiously holding over Max's head with a mischievous snicker so devastating Max forgets to pretend to be annoyed for far too many lovesick beats of her heart.

\---

The second she sees Mrs. Byers turn away from the porch railing towards the front door, Max pauses with her half-rolled snowball between her gloved hands. Her eyes sweep the Byers's front yard for Lucas's, only to find them already on her; as this was his plan, she shouldn't be surprised, but her heart lifts with gratitude for her cunning best friend anyway. He winks at her before shoving his generously-sized snowball right down the back of Jane's leather jacket, and Max reluctantly turns away from her to jog towards the Byers's porch amidst her peals of unguarded laughter.

“Hello, Sir,” Max pants, slowing her steps as she pads up the porch steps towards the still-smoking police chief. She glances over her shoulder to see Lucas spinning Jane with both arms around her waist, Dustin approaching ominously behind the pair with a snowball in each hand, and she turns back towards Chief Hopper's raised eyebrows hastily. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Chief Hopper's shoulders relax, and he leans over the porch railing on his elbows. “She's not sleeping over, Max,” he says, and takes a long drag of his cigarette without looking at her.

“No, I know,” Max says, leaning against the post beside the porch steps. “You made that very clear.” Chief Hopper glances at her from the corner of his eye, the butt of his cigarette hanging from his bottom lip, and she hurriedly ploughs forward before her own lip can stop her idea before it's even started. “What I wanted to ask was – Which date did you pick as Jane's birthday? I know we don't know her actual birthday, but what did you put down on Jane Hopper's papers?”

Hopper furrows his thick eyebrows. He glances past her towards her laughing friends, and then flicks the finished cigarette away into the Byers's bushes, something close to warmth in his golden-brown eyes as he watches the spark flicker out in the patchy snow beneath the plants. “You want to throw a shin-dig like this one for her?” he says gruffly.

“Sort of,” Max says. “We were thinking of taking her into Indianapolis, to see a show or go to the aquarium or something. She likes the colorful fish. You know, stuff we've all gotten to do on our birthdays.”

“You go to a lot of rock shows for your birthday growing up?” Chief Hopper says, leaning over the railing to stare up at the cloudy sky above them non-commitedly.

Max resists the urge to roll her eyes, even though he won't look at her so it wouldn't matter either way. “I just meant, we all got to go to the city and do fun stuff we liked, as a treat, on our birthdays. This is the first birthday party she's ever been to, you know. Ever. For anyone.”

Chief Hopper snorts. “I don't know if you can call this a party,” he says, almost to himself, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his breast pocket with a furtive glance towards the screen door. “Eighteenth birthday, and you're all having snowball fights. I'm glad she met you, and not the kids I used to hang out with in high school, let me tell you.”

The snowball fight is mostly to distract both parents, Mrs. Byers from seeing Will and Mike sneak into the woods behind the house to be alone and Chief Hopper to snare him into having this conversation, but she's fairly certain that he's right about having a much different high school experience than anyone in the party. “So, as you can see, we have very appropriate, simple birthday parties in our friend group,” she says, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “We want Jane to have one, too. Safe, but all of the fun she's never gotten to have.”

Chief Hopper's jaw clenches, and he shifts restlessly against the railing. “I picked end of August,” he says quietly, still avoiding her gaze in favor of the dark sky beyond the porch awning. “Keeps her from graduating before she turns eighteen, and keeps her in my care long as possible, with a few months after school ends to help her sort her adult life out. Not that she's going to let me help her do that.”

Max's heart aches at the reminder. “Oh,” she sighs, leaning her hip against the porch railing and letting her unseeing gaze drop to the shadowy leaves below them.

Chief Hopper pauses, and then pushes off the porch railing, but she doesn't look up at him. “Hey,” he says gruffly, and her gaze rises to meet his more out of years of politeness being drilled into her head than because she wants to. “It's just a day, though. I don't see why we can't have a party for her, soon. This month. Make up for the seventeen-odd she's already missed.”

Max perks up a little, distracted. “So we can take her to the city?”

“No city,” Chief Hopper growls, and his thick eyebrows only snap closer together at her answering scowl. “It's too much exposure.”

“It's easy to blend into the crowd in the city,” Max counters.

“It's easy for the bad men to blend into the crowd in the city,” Chief Hopper snaps back, and Max makes a face, even as her guts twist anxiously at his words. “There's cameras everywhere in the cities, nowadays. Security cameras, even damn traffic light cameras. Someone's going to get an image of her, and that's going to show up on their radar right away.”

“Jesus,” Max mutters. “We'll stay here, then. Even though the only thing to do at night is snowball fights.” Neither of them mention the fact that they know that Jane will be living on the streets of the cities in less than six months. “Unless you have any suggestions from your high school days on how to spend an eighteenth birthday,” she can't help but add innocently, mirroring his earlier lean on the porch railing to stare up at the dark sky.

She could have sworn she hears Chief Hopper snort, but when she looks at him he's glaring daggers at her. “Don't push your luck, Max,” he growls, and she straightens abruptly under his gaze like she's a criminal in his police lineup. “Cake and movies will be fine.”

“Well, we want to do something bigger,” she explains. “A huge blow-out for her years of missed birthdays. In Hawkins!” she adds hastily, raising her hands as his eyebrows furrow together dangerously. “We'll keep it in Hawkins, but we'll have to do some more planning to find somewhere that's actually fun. And we wanted it to be a surprise, so don't tell her.”

“All right,” Chief Hopper sighs, and he turns away from her to lean over the porch step again, shoving a new cigarette between his frowning lips. “You don't smoke this shit, do you?” he mumbles around the cigarette, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as he cups the end to light it.

“No sir,” Max says, shaking her head so emphatically her vision is obscured for a moment by her own long hair. “She says she smokes less, when she's around me, too,” she adds hastily, and then tries not to wince outwardly at her own words.

There's something dangerously close to amusement in Chief Hopper's eyes as he takes a deep, silent drag from his cigarette and watches her blush miserably under his gaze, until Jane's faint voice calling her name makes them both look towards the sound. Max's heart, predictably, throws itself against her ribcage, and she turns to start heading towards her girlfriend before she realizes she's technically still in the middle of a conversation. “I'll let you know what we come up with,” she says, backing towards the porch steps like that will distract him from her rudeness. “Remember, it's a secret, so don't ask her about it.”

“Yeah, I got that from when you said 'It's a secret,' thanks,” Chief Hopper says sarcastically, but the front door opens to reveal Mrs. Byers with a tray of mugs, and it's his turn to stand upright like her very presence is pulling him upwards.

“Okay, Sir,” Max says, not bothering to keep the amusement out of her voice, and she doesn't see his reaction as she turns on her heel and takes off at a run towards the pull of gravity she can feel even from out of sight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to @booksummoner, who's been with these useless lesbians since before they were useless lesbians together! Thanks for reading, your comments meant so much to me and I hope you enjoy Max's internal dialogue about how gay she is for Jane!!!  
> Posting this and running but I should be able to answer comments tomorrow at the very latest, sorry I have absolutely no discipline when it comes to posting but I love you all!!! alsjfhajglf;hg<3


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! If anyone still remembers this story exists I'm so sorry, both for how long this took and for,,, this  
> Trigger warning for mentions of death, mourning, past abuse, feelings of inadequacy, and Hopper being a butt for a few sentences I'm not sure what to tag it as. You know, a rom-com!!! alkjdjhj;hg

Hopper is leaning carelessly on the edge of the reception desk, eyes distant as he watches his own hands roll an unlit cigarette back and forth between his calloused fingers and either ignoring or oblivious to the furtive glances Shirley the receptionist is sending him, by the time Eleven walks through the office doors. Guilt twists her guts, the warmth of Max's hurried hug, stolen right before Max had had to run to her class and Eleven to the school office, evaporating from her skin like the last spark of electricity when a light is unplugged before everything goes dark, and she sinks her front teeth into her lower lip so deeply she tastes blood in her mouth. Hopper, however, only smiles faintly at her, his unfocused eyes softening just a bit as they land on her even as his lower lip wobbles like it can't quite remember how to turn upwards, and he pushes off the desk to cross his arms over his chest. “Ready, kid?” he says gruffly.

“Yes,” Eleven says. She stops in front of the reception desk, gripping the straps of her backpack with cold fingers. She sucks her bottom lip in what she hopes is a subtle manoeuvre, trying to lick away the blood before her adoptive father notices and has one more thing to worry about today.

Either she's more sneaky than she thinks, or he's so distracted that he doesn't notice, because he nods and shoves his hands into his trouser pockets. “Let's rock and roll,” he says, and strides past the desk without a backwards glance.

“Jim,” Shirley blurts out. She seems to regret calling out to him as soon as she does it, or maybe she wishes she'd used something more formal when he turns slowly back towards her with his eyebrows raised incredulously, but she ploughs forward hurriedly all the same. “You – You're a good police chief,” she says, eyes brimming with pity and tears as she shifts in her chair to try and catch Hopper's gaze. “And a good man. We all think so. No matter what.” Her eyes flicker pointedly to Eleven, and Eleven sees Hopper's shoulders tense out of the corner of her eye.

“And what the hell do you mean by that,  _Shirley_?” Hopper says through clenched teeth. He puts emphasis on Shirley's name as if he's mocking her, but with the anger radiating from his rigid posture it sounds more like a threat to Eleven.

Shirley waves her hands frantically, panic replacing the pity in her wide eyes. “Nothing, really – I only meant – You – You have a good d – a better – have a safe trip.”

Hopper huffs, but only shakes his head and turns to stomp towards the office doors. Eleven hovers for a long, drawn-out moment, letting her powers buzz just under the surface of her skin as she puts all of the fury she feels into the dark, unrelenting glare she's trapped Shirley with, and she only turns away to follow Hopper out of the office once she feels every lightbulb in the room threaten to burst.

Hopper is halfway down the hall by the time she closes the office door behind her. She speeds her steps to catch up to him, and almost lets the powers still vibrating at her fingertips escape to the lights overhead when she sees the expression on his face. Her jaw clenches automatically at the sight of his, but it is her stomach that clenches a moment later when she raises her eyes and sees how red and dry his are. Suspicion blooms in her painfully- tight stomach, and he is the one now on the receiving end of her dark glare as they approach the car.

When she doesn't open her passenger side door, he looks up with a distracted frown. “What?” he barks.

She crosses her arms over her chest; she's not as easily intimidated as Shirley, especially when it comes to his constantly-overlooked well-being. “Your eyes,” she says. “Were you drinking before you came to get me?”

She's only seen this much rage in his expression when he's yelling at his officers for staring at her. “What, you think I'm going to get wasted before driving my daughter around?” he snaps.

Uncowed, she only holds his furious gaze with her own suspicious one, stubbornly keeping her arms folded over her breast. “You would get  _wasted_  if it was just you in the car?”

Hopper's jaw works angrily, like he's grinding his teeth, and he rips open the car door like he's trying to pull it off its hinges. “I don't need to get wasted when it's only me in the car, because you're the one driving me to drink,” he snaps, and throws himself into the driver's seat.

The guilt worms its way back into her guts, and she pauses for a long, wounded moment before she pulls her own car door open and slips inside. Hopper has his hands on the wheel, staring unblinklingly out of the windshield as she clicks the door closed behind her, and he waits until she's fastened her seatbelt before he speaks.

“Sorry, kid,” he says hoarsely. His voice is earnest, but he still won't look at her.

She nods anyway. “Me too.”

He shakes his head. “No. This is on me. You have nothing to be sorry for. It's today, it's not you.”

She chews her lip, but nods.

“I didn't have anything to drink,” he adds. “Promise. Been smoking and sucking down coffee since the second I got out of bed, which is probably worse for me, but I wouldn't drink with you in the car.” He looks  over at her, and although his eyes are red-rimmed, they're clear and earnest as they finally meet hers. “Okay?”

She lets one side of her mouth twitch up just a bit as she nods at him while he can see her. He smiles back, and for a moment it's his real smile, gentle and so easy she never quite knows whether he knows he's doing it, before what Mrs. Byers calls  _the shutters behind his eyes_  slam closed again all at once and he turns back towards the road to start the police cruiser.

Eleven knows he doesn't like her staring any time, and she's already aggravated him without meaning to before they'd even started their road trip so she doesn't want to purposefully do anything that she knows will make him upset, so she forces herself to look down at her knees as the car rumbles to life beneath them. She squeezes her eyes shut and screws up her face with the effort to picture every detail of Mrs. Byer's kind face when she'd leaned over Eleven to whisper,  _Sometimes, when good people have been through bad things, they close themselves off, like shutters coming down behind their eyes so that we can't see the terrible things they're reliving behind them. Hopper still loves you, and all he needs from you is for you to be there on the other side of those shutters for him._

Eleven has never seen the shutters behind Hopper's eyes slam closed around Mrs. Byers, but he had sent Eleven to clean her room last night when she'd asked if he would be seeing Mrs. Byers today, so she supposes that not letting Mrs. Byers see them is one of the  _strategies_  he always talks about when Eleven asks why he won't ask Mrs. Byers to date him. Eleven doesn't think she uses any  _strategies_  to get Max to date her, but Max has seen the shutters close behind her eyes multiple times and still wants to be her girlfriend, so she's sure whatever Hopper's talking about is yet another frustrating social thing she still doesn't understand even after years outside the lab.

She pictures Max's easy, expressive smile instead, and she feels her own face relax a bit. Familiar, cloying smoke fills her nostrils as she takes in a long, wistful breath, and her hands are rummaging through her backpack even before her eyes pop open. She finds the least-crushed cigarette in the pack trapped beneath her textbooks and lights it with a silent, grateful sigh. Although he glances at her out of the corner of his eye, she knows Hopper is feeling even worse than she'd thought when he says nothing.

They drive for hours without conversation. As they leave even the small farming towns surrounding Hawkins the radio starts to stutter and fuzz, and Eleven casts a web of power through the little box into the sky and sorts through all the signals she can find. She latches onto one playing one of his boring, meandering country tunes, and when she weaves it back through the radio and into the car and Hopper glances at her she sees his real eyes, sad but shutter-free, and she has to close her own eyes so as not to let the surge of relief which crashes through her become a surge of power enough to break his speakers.

She's conserving her last un-crushed cigarette, drawing in slow, careful breaths so as not to burn through the whole thing at once like she desperately wants to, when Hopper pulls over to the side of the road and the car shudders into silence. She looks over at him curiously, but he only jerks his head towards his door before he unbuckles his seatbelt and throws the door open with a heavy  _thump_ , and Eleven can only shove the remains of her cigarette between her lips and push her own door open to jog around the nose of the car towards Hopper's already-retreating back.

“Are we here?” she asks, looking around curiously. She'd assumed they would be leaving towns altogether, or at least travelling to the outskirts of a town, but considering they'd seemed to have parked on the only paved street in the area, this town might be all outskirts.

“Not yet,” Hopper says, and then clears the gravel of chain-smoking and not speaking for hours from his throat with a few coughs and a thump to his chest. He nods towards a tiny white-washed shop with no sign, and she falls into step with him silently as he leads the way across the road.

She looks upwards with interest at the tiny bell which tinkles as Hopper pushes the door open and ushers her inside. The shop looks even smaller on the inside, bursting with plants so thickly she can barely wade through them towards the counter without running into anything, and although it is only a few steps to the other side of the shop, there are so many fascinating, beautiful things to examine everywhere she looks, she's spun in circles five times before she finally feels the edge of the wooden counter collide with her shoulder blade.

A patron bent over a long-leafed plant by the window is eyeing her leather jacket with suspicion, but when she turns to the man in a green apron behind the counter, he smiles at her kindly. He raises his palm to his chest and bows towards her slightly, inclining his head, and his warm smile grows when she mirrors his gesture.

“What kind of flowers are you looking for today, Miss?” he asks, ignoring the patron's loud sniffing by the long-leafed plant.

Eleven hesitates, glancing around at the forest surrounding them for Hopper. She doesn't really know any names of flowers, and now that she knows how heavy the pots littering the floor are by tripping over more than one of them, she's not sure how she and Hopper are going to get them into the car. “Pink,” she says, since it's the only thing Hopper had told her beforehand, and he seems to have been swallowed up by the looming plants around them so she can't ask him.

Thankfully, the man smiles and doesn't ask any further questions. He holds up one finger to her, the  _wait a moment_  finger instead of the one her friends seem to favor greeting each other with, and turns towards the glass doors behind him. She's surprised at the blast of cold air which brushes her cheeks as the door slides open, but the man returns with an armful of pink flowers wrapped in sheer, colorful paper, and she's too mesmerized to wonder any more about the cold.

“Oh,” she whispers, and reaches out for the flowers immediately. The shop worker is holding the flowers like she's seen people holding babies, cradled gently in the nook of their arm, and she carefully copies his stance as she pulls the package into her arms. The flowers are a gradient of all different kinds of pinks, blushing against the cocoon of pastel-colored paper holding them in place, and Eleven is wondering whether the bright petals are as velvety as they look when a familiar form lumbers over to the counter beside her and nudges her elbow.

She looks up at Hopper to find him already smiling down at her, at least with his mouth. “Great pick, kid,” he says softly, and before she can give credit to the shop worker Hopper looks up and places another cone of colorful paper onto the counter. “The two bouquets, please,” he says, and the man behind the counter nods and ducks his head to scribble something into his ledger. While Hopper pays Eleven subtly reaches over to peel back the paper on Hopper's cone –  _bouquet_  – and stares in wonder at, impossibly, even  _more_  different pink flowers until Hopper swipes the bouquet from the counter and she jumps guiltily.

“Thanks,” he says to the shop worker. “Come on, kid.” He turns to march out of the store without looking at her. When Eleven glances back up at the man in the apron he winks at her, and she smiles at him before cradling her bouquet in her arms carefully again and turning to follow Hopper through the maze of plants.

Hopper lets her hold both bouquets while he drives. They only get through two-and-a-half songs on the radio before Hopper pulls over again, this time beside looming iron gates partially obstructed by bushy trees still dusted with the last, stubborn cling of snow. Eleven clutches both bouquets to her chest and follows Hopper out of the car more slowly this time, trying not to look too interested as he silently leads the way towards the intimidating entranceway; she's never been in a graveyard before, but from Hopper's attitude today she gets the feeling it's one of the places where she's not supposed to ask a lot of questions, so she only peers around curiously at the weather-worn stones and rusting statues when Hopper isn't looking.

Hopper only speaks to warn her to stay on the path and not step on any graves. He leads the way over rolling hills towards the heart of the graveyard, and she's so busy trying to read a gravestone that looks so old the writing seems to be almost worn away that she runs into his back when he stops abruptly. She looks up at him, but the shutters behind his eyes are down again, and she follows his unfocused gaze down to the gravestone only a few feet away from them across the lawn.

_Sarah Hopper. Beloved daughter. A star in the sky she loved so much._

Hopper makes a noise that might have been a cough or a gag. Eleven shifts the bouquets to one arm and slips her fingers through his, and only then, after all day, do tears start to form in his eyes. “I'm -” he tenses his jaw and squeezes her fingers, and the only thing she can think to do is squeeze them back. “I do this every damn year,” he mutters through clenched teeth. “I talk to her all the time, inside my head, but I get here and I -” He shakes his head once, like a dog trying to fling water from its fur, and takes a deep breath. “Could you say something, kid?”

Eleven's eyes widen. She hadn't expected to have to say anything on this trip – as worried as she'd been in the silence of the car, it had been what she'd known was coming – and, despite how many people in her life had suffered and even died, she hadn't truly mourned anyone she loved, not like Hopper mourned Sarah. She isn't very good at knowing the right thing to say in any circumstance, let alone one as important and terrible as this one, and considering how she'd already infuriated him on the worst day of his year before they'd even reached the graveyard, she doesn't want to hurt him when he's already in so much pain. She opens her mouth, but Hopper, seeming to sense what she's about to say, most likely from the painful grip she has on his hand says, “Please, kid. Anything. I know you didn't know her, but you're my daughter now, too. Just give me a minute.”

Eleven hesitates, but she closes her eyes and conjures up Mrs. Byer's kind face again.  _All he needs from you is for you to be there on the other side of those shutters for him._

She nods, mostly for herself since he isn't looking at her, and steps forward, dropping his hand with one last squeeze. She grips the bouquets in her arms and walks slowly along the space beside Sarah's grave, eyeing the stone warily as she approaches. Forcing herself to not glance back at Hopper, she sinks to her knees beside the grave and places the bouquets at the base of the stone like she's seen at other graves on the way, chewing her lip so anxiously she gets an unpleasant mix of lipstick and blood when she takes a deep, shaky breath.

“Sarah,” she says. She forces herself to keep her eyes on the flowers at her knees, mind whirling so desperately for what to say she feels the powerlines in the trees by the gate surge and flicker. “I've heard a lot about you, from Dad. He loves you very much. I wish I could have met you. I wish... I have a sister, from before I started living with Hop, who I love so much it feels like she's a part of me. I wish we could have both been Hop's daughters at the same time, so I could have loved you like that, too. But we're family, and family is important, so I'm happy I came here today with our dad to be with you.”

Strong arms yank her to her feet from behind, and she's frozen in terror that she had ended up saying the wrong thing for a missed beat of her heart before she realizes Hopper is crushing her to his body in a hug, not from anger. It's a bit too tight for her to breathe properly, but she feels his tears leak into the top of her head as he squeezes her closer, and she shuts her eyes and tries to hug him back just as tightly. He just holds her silently for a few long moments, and she lets him, nuzzling into the fur on his jacket's lapels and trying to radiate as much body heat back to him as she can feel from his embrace because it's her favorite part of hugs with Hopper and her friends and the best comfort she can think of.

“Thank you, kid,” Hopper says hoarsely in her ear. She hasn't felt him sob or shake against her, and his voice is thick with the tears he's still trying to hold back. “You both are the best daughters I could have asked for. I know I don't say it enough, but I think it every day.”

“I know,” Eleven whispers, although her face is crushed against his fur lapel, so she's not sure he can hear her.

“I know it was a lot to ask you to come with me today, so I appreciate it. I've always done this alone, so having you here... It means a lot. I wish you could have met Sarah, too. You two headstrong girls, you would have given me hell together.” She snickers, and then immediately regrets it, but he chuckles into her hair and she relaxes in his embrace again. “I love you,” he mumbles into her ruined gelled hair.

“I love you, too,” she whispers into his jacket, and she knows he hears her this time because he squeezes her waist.

“Jane,” he says seriously, and she freezes and tilts her head up to meet his eyes; despite his insistence on her using her true name, and not the number she still secretly worries fits her better, he hardly ever uses it himself. “I brought you here because I wanted you here with me, and you're the only one who won't treat me like everyone else in Hawkins does today. But I also wanted you to come because that's what family does. They show up. I know you don't have a lot of family history that you can learn from your biological parents, but you should know the Hoppers. You should know Sarah. Like -” He lifts one hand from her back to gesture vaguely towards the tombstone, and Jane peeks around his body curiously. “That quote? Her mom came up with that. Sarah, she loved space. Always had her face tilted upwards towards the stars instead of what was right in front of her. She was just a kid, but she had this picture book about space, all the different stars and planets and science junk, and she loved it. Since she died, I – sometimes I feel like I'm some kind of black hole, like in her picture book.”

“Black hole?” Jane says. Hopper has been turning towards the grave as he speaks, seemingly without realizing what he's doing, and, still locked in his tight grip, she has to do a quick side-step to avoid trodding on the grave.

“Yeah, it's a -” His voice breaks, and Eleven tucks herself into his side. “It's this thing in outer space. It's like, it sucks everything towards it and destroys it. And somehow... All the doctors told me it was 'natural' to feel guilty, to remember it's not my fault, but somehow, I've just been scared, you know? I've just been scared that it would take you, too. I think that's why I get –  _so_  mad. But I'm so sorry. And I'm still your dad. I'm just... Trying to re-learn how to do this whole parenting thing.”

“I'm re-learning how to be a daughter,” Eleven points out, staring up at him staring down at Sarah's gravestone.

Hopper chuckles, choking a bit on the sobs he's still trying to swallow even though his eyes are the warmest they've been all day. “Well. You've always been a fast learner.”

Even with her worry all day of saying or doing the wrong thing for Hopper, her stomach flutters happily at his praise and the pride in his voice. She stands over her sister's grave, holding her father's hand, and she thinks to herself, as Hopper finally fills the silence of the graveyard with his sobs and gasps, that somehow, the name  _Hopper_  had become an easier fit than  _Jane_. Listening to Hopper break down beside her, she's certain of where that connection to the name came from, and she stares resolutely at her sister's name gracefully carved into the stone in front of her, and she thinks:  _I have a family. I have an identity. I am going to find a way to accept it._

_Sarah, I promise you, I'm going to find a way to be Jane._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be unfair since this chapter is Not Fun but I wanted to dedicate it to @Elliehlms bc wayyyy back in the teen chapters of this fic they left a comment that meant a lot to me about how me taking the time to explain how each character feels and their motivation develops the story and makes it more touching and I've kept this comment in the back of my mind whenever I'm nervous about writing something that's not pure lesbian fluff. This story isn't deep and I'm not trying to be that way but developing both Jane and Max's stories and how they intertwine and fall in love is basically what little plot this story has and I hope that comes across in this chapter!!! Anyway this dedication is almost as long as the chapter so thank you @Elliehlms and if you hate it I'll dedicate a happy chapter to you!!!<3  
> If it makes you guys feel better 1)I have the next chapter written so I'll post it as soon as I get another hot minute of free time and 2)Jane made Hop go back to the lil flower shop to buy a bouquet for Max on the way home!!!


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter is is stupid fluffy but warning for discussion of past abuse just in case!!!<3

On the whole, Max considers herself a fairly good student. She's respectful, finishes her homework on time, and, despite having many opportunities to with the rampant bullying problem in Hawkins, doesn't get caught up in physical fights or social drama that would affect her schoolwork or academic record. With some exceptions, she knows she gets quite a bit of leeway from the teachers because they know her to be a model pupil, and she's always wondered, in the shadowy corners of her mind, how far she could go, what she would have to do, to finally push past the well-earned goodwill she and the party have accumulated over the years and get into trouble with someone besides Wispinski, who not even someone like Will can please.

Somehow, she never imagined it happening during a field trip to a performance of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.

“I'm terribly disappointed, Ms. Mayfield,” Mr. Raymond is saying, looming over Max's miserably-hunched body on the bench he'd herded herself and Jane to from the auditorium. “I never would have expected this from you. Ms. Hopper, I can't say that I'm surprised at your behaviour, but dragging another student into it is truly unacceptable -”

Temper flaring, Max sit ramrod straight all at once on the bench as she glares up at him. “She didn't _drag me into_ anything, Sir, it was relevant to the material, and if anything _I_ started -”

“Max,” Jane says softly, and the familiar fingers covering hers on the bench between their bodies cools her temper enough to let her clamp her mouth shut before she says anything else incriminating.

“These are professional actors,” Mr. Raymond continues as if neither of them have spoken, frowning down at them with his hands on his hips. “You are witnessing experts, on the material you have spent mere months studying, perform their _paid jobs_ , and since you have demonstrated that you cannot show them the respect they deserve, you will not witness them at all. Instead of watching the rest of the performance, you will stay here, in the lobby, and you will write essays on how placing blame on others drives the various interwoven stories in Romeo and Juliet, and see if you can learn anything about placing blame for your unacceptable behaviour on others.” He glares significantly at Jane for a long moment, as if challenging her to contradict him, but when she only meets his gaze steadily he shakes his head and looks down to start rifling through his briefcase. “One page, both sides, single spaced,” he says, handing each of them a legal pad and a pen. “Due by the time the buses are boarded, so I'd suggest not wasting the remainder of the field trip chatting. Hopefully you got it all out of your systems in the theatre. I will be back periodically to check on you, but I have a responsibility to supervise the rest of the grade, so I cannot simply stay out here with you two. Placing blame, Romeo and Juliet, one hour fifty minutes.” He scowls at Jane, then Max, before finally turning and stomping back down the hallway in the direction of the theatre.

Max matches his scowl and adds a middle-finger salute for good measure, but only once his back is turned. She's so preoccupied with her fuming that she doesn't see Jane's expression until the punk girl sighs, so quietly it would almost be inaudible if Max weren't sitting so close to her that the outside of their knees brush, and her heart drops to her twisting stomach at the defeated frown pulling at those kissable pink lips.

“I'm sorry, Max,” Jane whispers, staring at their barely-touching knees from beneath her thick eyelashes, and she starts to draw the hand covering Max's back towards herself.

“No,” Max blurts out, both to her apology and the retreat of her touch, and she glances around the lobby to make sure that there are no ushers to watch them too closely before she reaches out to cover Jane's hand with both of her own. “He's just an asshole. You didn't do anything wrong.”

Jane makes a face, but she lets Max pull her trapped hand into her lap. “Got you in trouble.”

“No, _he_ got me in trouble,” Max says, ducking her head to try to find Jane's intoxicating eyes with her own. Jane's gaze flickers to the waterfall of Max's long hair tumbling into her line of vision with the redhead's movements, like she can't quite help it, and she stares for a long, heady moment before her eyes reluctantly rise to Max's when she continues earnestly, “He's just on some stupid power trip. I've talked through four years of Shakespeare performances, he was looking to make an example out of someone. Of all the times I was going to get punished for it, I'm just surprised it was the one I was actually talking about the play instead of ignoring it.”

Jane grins, a brief, radiant moment that has Max blinking away stars dazedly before she can prepare herself, but she ducks her head again. “I always ask Mike questions in English class. Shakespeare is confusing. Worse than regular English.”

“Yeah, it's so old it's almost another language,” Max says, stroking her girlfriend's trapped hand with both of her thumbs as she takes another covert sweep of the lobby to make sure no one is watching them. “It influenced modern English, but it's centuries old by now. Almost as old as Mr. Raymond.”

Jane snickers, and Max's heart flutters in her chest when Jane doesn't raise her fist automatically to cover the sound. Her wide brown eyes find Max's, finally, but Max suddenly finds her own gaze slipping downwards when out of the corner of her eye she catches Jane sinking her teeth into her abused bottom lip. “I'm sorry my questions got us removed for talking.”

“You don't have to be sorry,” Max says, emphasizing her words with a reassuring squeeze of Jane's hands, and her foolish heart tries to burst through her aching ribcage when Jane returns her grin with a genuine, dazzlingly-beautiful one of her own. “And, hey,” she adds, much quieter, glancing around the lobby mischievously with a more purposeful stroke of her thumb against Jane's skin, “if I had to choose between sitting through a bunch of ex-drama club kids struggling through ancient poetry they barely understand or getting to be alone with you, I know which one I'd pick.” She waggles her eyebrows.

Jane's endless eyes warm, distracting pink lips twitching in a way which makes Max's part at the mere memory of them on hers, but she shrugs and drops her gaze to their hands in Max's lap. “I wanted to see the rose part.”

Max frowns. “The rose part?” With Jane's teeth sinking into her distractingly-kissable lips so close she's mere inches away from soothing the bite with her own lips, it takes her an embarrassingly long time to remember the famous line Jane is referring to. “Oh, from the balcony scene? If I was looking forward to any of it, it would have been the sword fights. More romance stories should have sword fights in them.”

Jane snickers, turning Max's hand over in her lap to follow the lines on Max's palm with the tip of her finger. “Mike says it's a play, not a novel, and the lines were meant to be spoken. That they make more sense when you hear them instead of reading.”

“Yeah, the acting part probably helps, too,” Max agrees, trying not to let her whole body shiver with the bolts of electricity crackling along her skin from Jane's light touch. “Even these _paid professionals_ probably get across what the character's trying to say better than a class of high school seniors reading the passage for the first time. I get wanting to hear what it's actually supposed to sound like. You mean the lines about Romeo's name?”

Jane nods, tracing meaningless shapes along her tingling palm. “'What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name should smell as sweet,'” she quotes softly, watching her finger's arbitrary path along Max's hand. “Her whole speech, she says Romeo's name doesn't matter, that he should just drop it like it's not part of him.”

“Yeah,” Max says, a bit dazedly, watching Jane watch her hand. “Their family feud is stupid, and they shouldn't hate each other because their names are Montague and Capulet.”

“No,” Jane agrees. “They shouldn't hate each other. But he already doesn't hate her, as Romeo. He doesn't have to change his name for that.”

“I think the speech is more talking about her frustration with the situation, than the names specifically,” Max says. “If he weren't a Montague, they could just be together without all the stupid drama. So she doesn't care about his name, and wishes nobody else did, either.”

"So it means names don't matter?" Jane says slowly. Her brow furrows, more thoughtful than angry, but her narrowed eyes stay carefully on their joined hands.

"Yeah," Max says. Jane's expression doesn't change, but something about her posture still makes Max's stomach twist, as if she's just said something rude without thinking, and she continues hastily, "Like, their family names don't matter. They love who the other person is, and they don't care that they're from a family they're supposed to hate. It's portrayed as a love story, but ultimately it shows how arbitrary and preventable hate is, and how destructive it can be."

Jane tilts her head curiously, thumb gliding over the curve between Max's thumb and pointer finger. "What is 'arbitrary?'"

"Random, something that's chosen or believed for no real reason," Max explains.

Jane frowns all at once. She looks more hurt than anything, which is much worse than anger. "Caring about names is arbitrary?" she says, voice voice tight, and she tries to pull her fingers away from Max's like she's been burned.

Automatically, Max snatches her retreating fingers back into her grasp and pulls them into her lap, heart pounding frantically against her ribcage. "I just meant - Jane, look at me. _Jane._ What is it?"

Jane lets Max trap her hands between her own sweating ones, but she ducks her head to further evade her gaze. "It's arbitrary," she mutters.

"Hey," Max says softly, tilting her head so low her heavy curtain of red hair tumbles over her lap. Jane is biting her pink bottom lip so hard Max is worried she'll draw blood, and her starlit eyes are hidden from Max's anxious gaze by her thick, lowered lashes. "Jane, it's me."

Jane's eyes flicker up to hers at that, and Max is inappropriately awed by the galaxies of stars within them so close she can feel her own pale skin burn under their power. For a dangerous moment, she almost leans in, but Jane's fingers squeezing hers brings her back to herself enough to control herself. "Do you have another interpretation?" Max says, shakily, eyes dropping to Jane's abused bottom lip as the punk girl chews away what remains of her lipstick. "I didn't mean to, like, talk over you, or something."

Jane's lips twitch up on one side, but she drops her disorienting gaze to their joined hands again. "You don't," Jane says quietly, and Max's stupid heart lifts and flutters in her chest despite her worry. "I asked. I just wanted the story to be about something else."

"Romeo and Juliet?" Max says, watching her girlfriend with confusion as her mascaraed eyelashes flutter a bit. "Sorry, Jane, I'm not following."

Jane chews her bottom lip, thoughtfully this time, and the pause before she speaks is almost long enough for all of Max's insides to twist themselves in a knot so painful she care barely breathe through her anxiety. "My name. When I was in the lab, I was Eleven. When I escaped, I found out Mama named me Jane. Kali said, if I used my real name, it would help me feel more like me, and not Papa's experiment, but... It's never worked." She shrugs, eyes inscrutable as they watch her fingers glide over Max's. "I'm still Eleven."

Jane's presence has always made Max feel as if she's untethered to Earth's gravity, but the weightlessness never felt like a terrible, sickening jolt before. "You - you still think of yourself as Eleven?" she says, and tries not to wince as her voice cracks.

"Yes," Jane says quietly. "And no. I like being called Jane, but it's never fit me. I was supposed to be Jane, but I was Eleven, so I'm stealing someone's name. It feels like. I don't want to be Eleven, but Papa treated me like experiment Eleven, and even though he's gone, what he did doesn't feel like it's gone. I'm still Eleven, even when I'm not supposed to be, and I'm Jane, even when I don't feel like it. I'm in between."

Jane's voice is steady and thoughtful, as if she's still talking about an ancient play and not her whole identity, and Max knows that, if she tries to speak, her voice will be as far from steady as it can possibly get. She doesn't know what to say, anyway, and she swallows the self-loathing which builds in her throat like bile at the fact that the girl she loves is baring herself so readily and she had no idea what to do for her. She squeezes Jane's hands, and the warmth in Jane's endless brown eyes as she lifts them to meet Max's only makes her feel worse. "What's in a name?" Jane quotes, ruefully, tractor-beam gaze holding Max's relentlessly now. "I didn't have one for so long, and I was an experiment."

"You aren't an experiment, Jane," Max says immediately. Those tractor-beam eyes seem to draw words from her unwilling throat, and as soon as she starts talking, she can't seem to stop. "You never were. How you're treated doesn't change who you are. That's on that bastard who made you call him Papa, not you. You're a person, and he's a fuckwad. A dead fuckwad."

Jane grins at that, sudden and blinding, but before Max can even begin to feel a bit of hope she shakes her head. "I can't leave Eleven behind," she says, almost apologetically. "I can't forget.”

Max takes a deep breath, forcefully stuffing down the fury she feels at the mere thought of Jane's history. Anger won't help Jane right now, and she desperately wants to help her much more than she wants to rage against Jane's captor. "You know, there's a lot more to that scene than the rose line," she says slowly, careful to keep the tightness out of her voice.

Jane frowns adorably, looking down at Max from beneath her full lashes. "More?"

"Yeah," Max says, and swallows hard. She's never been known for controlling her temper, but years of sailing through English classes with little to no effort have left her with the unique talent of analyzing literature while her mind is elsewhere. "Thou art thyself, though, not a Montague... So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection that he owes without that title.' She's not saying his name is meaningless; she's saying that, regardless of what he's called, it's him that she loves, and, since his name is the only barrier to them being together, she wants him to cast it aside. That's not your problem with Eleven _or_ Jane. You don't have to give up who you were, or force yourself into a person you aren't, because of your name. And just because you don't feel comfortable with Jane right now doesn't mean you never will. You were under that fu – in that lab longer than you've been in the real world, let alone with Chief Hopper; it's going to take some adjusting, and that's okay. You're going to make it your own.”

The relief she feels at the small, lopsided smile tugging at Jane's lips is so absolute that she feels as though she could melt off the bench at the rush of it, but she tenses all the muscles in her body to stay upright so that she can continue to hold Jane's hands. “My own,” Jane echoes, and Max does sink down on the bench a bit with awe this time when both sides of her mouth curl up into a genuine smile. “That's what I want. Something that's just mine. Something in between **.** ”

Max watches her freckled thumb sweep over Jane's pale knuckles, considering. “Remember how my full name's Maxine, but no one calls me that?” She sees Jane nod seriously out of the corner of her eye and has to swallow a smile before she can continue. “I asked everyone to call me Max because it feels more comfortable. Sometimes, nicknames fit you better than your full name. Maybe we can find you a nickname that feels like it's more _you_ , that we can all call you so that you're more comfortable?”

Jane is perked straight up now, eyes so bright with eagerness Max knows she would be disintegrated if she looked into them full-on. “A nickname,” she says slowly, like she's shaping her mouth around the new word. “For my friends. Maxine is Max, so Jane would be -” she frowns, eyebrows furrowing together adorably over her starlit eyes. “Jane is already short.”

She looks so put-out, Max has to purse her lips to fight down her enamoured grin before she can speak. “It doesn't have to be exactly the same as mine. I call myself MadMax sometimes, like the movie, and that's just as many syllables as my full name. You could be Janie, or Ellie, or – or Janelle, if you want to combine the two, I guess.”

Jane tilts her head curiously, thoughtful little lines forming along her chin as she frowns. “I like 'combine them.' Not Janelle, though. Jay-Elle? Jay-Ee?”

“Like initials?” Max says. “Sure.”

But Jane shakes her head. “How else to people make nicknames?” she says, apparently to herself, since when Max opens her mouth to answer Jane blurts out, “Something pretty. I like Ellie, but I don't just want to be Eleven any more.”

“Ellie Jay?” Max suggests. “Best of both worlds.”

Jane turns to stare at her, wide eyes alight with almost as much awe as Max feels every second in her presence. “Ellie Jane,” she says, and the smile which spreads across her face is so content Max feels a mirroring smile pull her own lips dazedly. “It fits. And it will help me feel comfortable with just Jane, I think. Something in between. And it's pretty.”

“Very pretty,” Max says vaguely, not talking at all about her new nickname at all as Jane beams at her blindingly. “We can tell the boys to start calling you that when they finally get out of the play, if you want.”

Jane hesitates, and her eyes drop to their still-entwined fingers before she meets Max's gaze again. “Maybe just you can call me that, when it's only us?” she says quietly, endless eyes wide and earnest as she holds Max's dazed eyes. “Until we've tried it out for awhile. And they're loud, I don't want anyone overhearing and asking why I'm called 'Ellie.'”

Max nods, trying, undoubtedly fruitlessly, to look less dumbstruck than she feels. Being the only person allowed to call Jane the name she'd chosen for herself, the name that made her light up with the full force of her constellations of suns at the discovery of it, felt just as intimate as anything physical they had done, and she feels her cheeks heat up as she glances furtively around the lobby to make sure it's still empty. “Of course, Ellie Jane,” she whispers, and her girlfriend's answering smile is so blinding she blinks away white spots from her vision as she continues, “Whatever you want. This name is yours, and you get to decide what to do with it. Plus, you don't have to make a decision now; another teen-ager thing you probably haven't done is go through phases, so if this feels comfortable now but you want to change it later, that doesn't mean it wasn't right. And I'll be here to support you, no matter what name you think fits you best. You don't need to 'doff thy name' for that.”

The softness in Jane's luminous eyes is so mesmerizing that they both almost forget why Jane shouldn't lift her hand to cradle Max's cheek until it's halfway towards her face. Max blushes with her whole body this time and glances around the lobby quickly, but the only sound besides their guilty shuffling on the bench is the muffles voices coming from behind the auditorium door. She turns back towards Jane and makes a face, and the snicker Jane hides behind the hand she'd raised to touch Max makes her anxious heartbeat slow dreamily.

“I learned more than if I'd been allowed to watch the rose scene,” Jane whispers, tugging the pad of paper Mr. Raymond had given her back over her knees as she watches Max from beneath her thick lashes. “Mike says literature is written to be relatable for your problems, but I should have known not to try to take advice from an ancient play.”

Max grins. “You can still relate to other parts from it,” she points out. “'Deny thy father, and refuse thy name.'”

Jane laughs, loud and shameless as she tosses her head backwards without a thought about covering the sound, and Max thinks, dazedly, that of all of the lines Jane had tried to find herself in throughout Romeo and Juliet, the most accurate would have been _But soft! what light through yonder window breaks? it is the east, and Juliet is the sun._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the lovely @palmo, I hope this fluffy chapter puts a smile on your face too!!!  
> Sorry I didn't have time to answer all comments last chapter (I don't get a lot of time online) but I'm definitely going to try to reply to everyone in this next period (don't post during class kids) every single comment is appreciated and cherished forever thank you all so so much!!!<3


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> h,,, hey,,,, anybody remember this story??? god  
> warning for implied sexual content (no deets), bullying, and me being really bad at writing insults alskjdhsjh;jfl  
> (no they're not actually banging yet just messing around)

Visibly reluctant, Jane nudges the car door shut gently behind her as she gazes over the dented roof at Max. “Back,” she sighs.

“Yeah,” Max says, but it comes out more dreamily than she intends. She's just as reluctant to leave their private lunch in her car, parked on one of the many conveniently-deserted back roads in Hawkins, but her mind is still in the backseat with Jane, gloriously preoccupied with the shining world only she and the punk girl can occupy in the rare, stolen seconds when they're actually alone, and even the looming, gloomy school building, and the looming reality of gym class they're undoubtedly going to be late for, can't pull her out quite yet. “Back in black,” she adds, nonsensically, because even after eight months of being around Jane her brain still doesn't function properly when she's close, let alone when Max still has the taste of Jane's lipstick on her tongue.

_Closer, Jane._

Jane grins at her, full and blinding, and the car door handle she's still holding jiggles noisily when Max stumbles on the spot under her power, temporarily blinded. “We should go,” she points out softly, deep brown eyes lingering on Max's still-bruised lips in a way which makes her grateful for her sweaty hold still on the door handle as her knees jelly beneath her. “We still have to change.”

Every day she spends with Jane, Max finds a deeper shade of red to blush. “Uh, I forgot my gym bag in my locker,” she says, raising her hand from the door to rub the back of her neck beneath her tangled hair and trying not to outwardly wince at how sweaty her palm is. “Again. You go on ahead, I'll meet you there.”

Jane looks at her for a long moment, tractor-beam eyes staring directly into Max's like she's silently trying to pull the truth out of her with just the gravity contained within them, but after a long, heart-stopping moment, she merely smiles her captivating half-smile and takes a single step backwards. “Yes. Meet you there.”

“Okay,” Max says, too quickly, flushing so hard her upper lip starts to sweat when Jane's endless eyes take one last sweep of her face before she turns to start jogging towards the main school doors. “Stall for me if I'm late!” she calls after the other girl at one last attempt at normalcy, but the lopsided smirk Jane tosses over her shoulder makes her already-weak knees give out beneath her and she sinks against the car door for a dangerous moment, staring at the weak sun reflecting off the back of Jane's worn leather jacket before she's startled back to reality finally by the school warning bell and she jolts upright and wobbles on her jellied knees.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she mutters, and starts towards the side doors at a run.

Despite the impossible truth of Jane being her girlfriend, despite every stolen moment and half-remembered fever dream and private lunches they occasionally managed to escape the boys for, Max has still managed to avoid changing for their shared gym class in front of Jane. Jane, it seems, thinks nothing of the idea, faithfully attaching herself to Max's side during lunch, whether in the cafeteria or her car, and starting towards the gym near the end of the break despite Max fabricating an excuse not to follow her every time, and Max knows she's overreacting, that undressing and immediately redressing in the crowded, unpleasantly-sweaty changing room is different than the heady, too-short moments she gets to pull her shirt off for Jane's eager eyes only, but she still finds herself stowing her gym clothes in her locker every day instead of taking the bag with her to lunch like Jane does. Jane's never said anything about it, and, knowing and loving her blunt approach to interpersonal concerns Max suspects her girlfriend would mention if it bothered her, but Max still feels that guilty tug in her guts through the giddy fog Jane's presence always brings as she watches the girl she loves walk towards their shared class alone.

As she runs on still-shaking legs, a foolish smile spreading her abused lips at the mere thought of being with Jane again despite the herds of students ominously thinning around her, she thinks to herself that it's not the act of undressing in front of Jane which bothers her; she's chosen to do that many times by now, so frequently and enthusiastically that Chief Hopper's paranoid rule-enforcing is finally actually warranted. Somehow, undressing in front of other people, even as benignly as changing clothes for gym class, when she has such intimate knowledge of how the curve at the ridge below Jane's ribs feels between her hands, and what the skin along the firm plane of her belly tastes like, felt as if they were exposing more than her body to the oblivious girls around them, even though their classmates were no more likely to figure out their secret activities with their clothes off than on. Being unclothed around Jane was something for them, a part of them that the pantomime they had to put on at school to keep suspicions off of them couldn't touch, and, although she knows that these stolen moments with the girl she loves are theirs no matter where they are or what they do, she still isn't ready for the false platonic front they are forced to put on at school invade what she associates as being close to Jane.

By the time she reaches the changing room, Jane is already gone. There are only a handful of girls still getting ready for class, mostly crowded around the vanity counter re-applying make-up or fixing hairstyles which will be ruined by exercise in moments. The final bell sounds as Max is pulling up her running shorts, and she joins the herd of girls running frantically for the gym doors with her hands in her hair, trying to jog towards the gym and tie her hair back blindly at the same time. Julie Patel props the door open with her foot when she sees Max making a mad dash after the group with her hands still in her hair, but when Max breathes her thanks and tries to rush past her, Julie reaches up without a word and tugs Max's haphazard ponytail into what is undoubtedly a less messy-looking position.

“You're welcome,” Julie says with a pointed look when Max slows to toss her a confused look over her shoulder, and the door slams behind them as she pushes past Max towards the students milling around Coach Wilkins with one last eyeroll.

Max makes sure Julie isn't watching her before she reaches up to feel her lump-free ponytail. Her fingers are still in her own hair as her eyes find Jane's wide, endless ones already on hers, tractor-beam gaze pulling Max's towards her irresistibly, and even though Max had seen her less than five minutes ago, her heart throws itself eagerly against her ribcage as if it's been missing her for centuries. She grins, reflectively, at the mere sight of her, but Jane is looking at her with serious eyes, almost calculatingly, and the cold squeeze of anxiety at the sudden thought that Jane _has_ been upset this whole time about changing alone doesn't warm under the sunlit power of Jane's smile a few beats later.

“Hustle up, ladies!” Coach Wilkins calls, holding one familiar, dooming rubber ball aloft from her position in the very center of the gym floor. “It's dodgeball today! Line up single-file for team picks, and any lucky person I hear complaining gets the enviable position of picking up all the dodgeballs and getting them into equipment lockup before you're late for your next class!”

There's a low murmuring of both discontent and predictable ball-related jokes as the girls line up to be assigned to dodgeball teams, but no one dares to speak loud enough to draw Coach Wilkin's attention. Max rolls her eyes silently over her shoulder at Jane while their teacher starts at the front of the line, and she's both relieved and dreamily intoxicated by the mischievous amusement in Jane's dark eyes before she forces herself to turn around as the coach draws nearer.

Miraculously, they're both assigned to the same team by Coach Wilkin's random numbering, and Max is just starting to turn eagerly towards her girlfriend, searching for something that will undoubtedly end up being foolish to say about dodgeball to make Jane laugh, when Coach Wilkins blows her whistle without warning and Max is immediately hit in the shin with a dodgeball. She can't quite find it in herself to be upset – dodgeball has always been one of her least favorite gym activities, mostly because of how it usually ends up being an excuse the crueller girls like Annie Watson can use to beat up on their victims without getting into trouble – but at the look of apologetic amusement on Jane's breath-taking face, her still-swollen lips quivering with the effort not to twitch up into a smile, Max can't help but let her jaw drop comically, playing up her disbelief just to stoke the laughter lighting Jane's beautiful eyes, dazedly, until several different voices from the opposing team shout at her to get off the court and she remembers where she is enough to move away from Jane's gravitational pull.

She sits on the bench designated for fallen players, folding her arms over her chest and spreading her knees carelessly as she settles into searching with just her eyes to find Jane's back. She frowns when she can't find the familiar form of her girlfriend weaving amoungst the group of girls she's just left immediately, and she's so focused on her task she jumps like a startled rabbit when the body she'd been searching for throws herself heavily onto the bench next to her. Surprised, unprepared, Max doesn't have time to stop her heart from jumping into her throat in yet another desperate attempt to reach it's true home, and Jane's name escapes her grinning lips much more high-pitched and eagerly than she intends it to.

Jane flashes her a roguish grin, which doesn't help her fierce blush at all. “I got out on purpose,” the punk girl confides, leaning daringly closer as if they're sharing a secret even though the nearest girl is several feet away.

Max laughs, the sound still high and strangled by her pathetic heart in her throat. “You punk. Actually, I'm more surprised that anyone had the guts to throw a ball at you at all.”

“They didn't,” Jane said confidently. “I helped.” He taps the side of her nose, like Samantha from Bewitched, and it takes Max a long, dizzy moment to realize that she's most likely referencing her nosebleeds from using her powers rather than the old television show she's probably never heard of. She grins drunkenly at Jane, basking in her nearness, and the other girl is the one to break the long, inappropriate eye contract first when she lifts her luminous eyes to the top of Max's head and reaches for her.

Max rolls her eyes, trying not to look too eager as she leans into Jane's touch on the off-chance that someone glances at them. “God, is it really that bad? This is why I usually braid it, I just didn't have time.”

“Not bad,” Jane murmurs, and warmth trickles down from the top of Max's head over her skin like lava when Jane's tender hands tug a bit at her ponytail. “Who was that touching it, before?”

Her warm fingers smooth down the top of the ponytail, and it takes Max a heady moment to remember the name. “Uh, Julie. She used to do that all the time in, like, grade nine, maybe? When she was dating Dustin.”

“Was she in the party?” Jane says quietly. She eases her fingers out of Max's hair, drawing them back to her own lap reluctantly, and Max's scalp feels cold without the heat of her thousands of suns.

“Oh, no,” Max says with a breathier laugh than she means it to be, shaking out her new hairstyle to expel some of the residual energy still buzzing over the skin Jane had brushed with her fingers. “She never really wanted to be. She had her own group of friends who were into horses and stuff like that. She was nice to us, but she never really tried to be more than Dustin's girlfriend when we were all hanging out, except for the couple of times she invited me for a sleep-over, probably to make Dustin happy. She was always doing stuff like that, fixing my hair or suggesting clothes or trying to get me into lipgloss or whatever. I think it was her way of trying to be friendly, since all her girl friends liked that stuff, but it just annoyed me at the time, and we stopped hanging out together when they broke up. Pretty much all the guys's girlfriends, not that there have been many of them, didn't get accepted into the party. So, you know. Feel special.” She chances a quick grin in Jane's direction.

Jane's small, pleased half-smile makes Max's pulse quiver. “I do.” Her starlit eyes run, perhaps too boldly for their very public situation, over Max's cheekbone back up to the thick red hair she'd just neatened, and Max is so giddy in her gravity-defying tractor-beam gaze that she almost misses what Jane says next. “Did you have a crush on her?”

It's a few too many dreamy beats of her heart before the words sink in and she starts. “Julie?” she blurts, so loudly in her surprise that she glances behind her guiltily to make sure the girl in question hasn't heard them before she turns back to Jane with wide eyes. “The girl I just said irritated me?”

Jane grins, wide and blindingly bright, and Max lets her eyes slide closed of their own accord as they blissfully ache under the power of it. “I don't know. Once I escaped the lab, we had to move around so much Kali's gang were the only ones I knew well. You have known girls here for years. I know you didn't talk about it before, with the boys, but now that you do, I wonder if you thought about what we did, in the car, with them. Or think.” Her voice trails off, almost too soft on the last word to hear over the echoing and thundering of the dodgeball game around them, even though Max is siting so close she can feel the warmth from Jane's bare knee on her own.

The idea is so preposterous, Max tosses her recently-fixed ponytail and lets a laugh escape before she can think better of it. “Ellie Jane,” she says, and then turns to see her girlfriend already looking at her from beneath her thick lashes with shyness in her eyes, and her thoughts are pulled from her wanting lips gracelessly. “Princess Leia herself could proposition me, and I'd still only want you.”

Radiantly, luminously, Jane smiles at her as if she's said something worthy of the depth of her feelings, or something even remotely romantic, and Max gives in to the pull of her gravity and is leaning in before she can think better of it. The real world comes crashing back into her senses painfully when the mesmerizing fluttering of Jane's eyelashes is interrupted by a painful-sounding _thump_ and a loud screech, and Max jerks guiltily around so quickly her ponytail smacks her blushing cheek to see a pile of girls on the glossy gym floor, screaming so furiously over each other that she can't make out a word of what they're saying. This might not be helped by the heartbeat pounding in her ears, the desperate rhythm Jane had inspired turning to painful terror as she glances strategically over the tangle of players to make sure no one was looking at them before turning around to meet Jane's wide eyes. “Sorry,” she whispers.

Jane shakes her head. “It's hard,” she whispers back, even though their classmates are screeching so loudly that they couldn't hear her if she shouted. “Right afterwards. When we have to leave privacy and pretend we weren't just...” She trails off, not suggestively, but the way she does when she's searching for the correct word.

“Close,” Max suggests under her breath, and Jane nods. The punk girl sinks her front teeth into her abused lower lip and wears away at an already-scarred spot, and Max clears her throat and sits up ram-rod straight before she can lose herself in Jane's galaxies again. “Uh, well, to answer your question, no. I never thought about Julie that way. Even if I'd wanted to, the boys have all kinds of Arthurian codes of conduct the party has to follow, and one of them is no crushing on anyone else's girlfriend once they're officially together. Party first. That – That's what made it kind of hard, at first, when I liked you so much but I knew Mike was into you. Not only did I feel like a bad friend to you, but I was betraying a party rule with Mike.” She swings one leg out in front of her, the guilt which had lived in her guts in those days echoing in her belly.

“Mike was the one betraying you, by the rule,” Jane points out pragmatically, and Max grins at her knees. “But neither of you were wrong. You just didn't know.”

“That's true,” Max smiles. It feels good to talk about what had seemed insurmountable at the time - pining for her new friend, betraying her old friend, and desperately trying to keep everyone from knowing any of her feelings - with an easy grin and a freedom from the burning guilt in her guts that she couldn't have imagined at the time. She wonders, idly, if the Max from only a few months ago could have believed she could possibly be living the life she had now. With one covert glance at the girl sitting by her side, effortlessly shining brighter than the flourescent lights lining the rafters above them, she thinks to herself, dazedly, that even the Max currently living this life couldn't believe what she had.

“I'm sorry you were feeling guilty about me,” Jane says softly. “I wish I'd just told you.”

Max leans back on her hands to grin up at the rafters. “Yeah, I wish you had, too, or that I'd had the guts to tell you before Will basically gift-wrapped my confession for me,” she teases, and her heart lifts stupidly at Jane's quiet snort. “I would have jumped at the chance even when I was walking into stuff instead of talking to you. We could've had a couple more months like this, at least, before you inevitably have to break up with me to go back to being a badass with a group of friends who don't think a farmer's market is exotic.”

They both freeze. Max stares up at the rafters, letting the lights burn her bulging eyes as she hears her own words echoing deafeningly between them. She'd been trying to be self-depreciating, to make Jane laugh instead of feel guilty, but, like she always ends up doing, she'd taken it too far, and she'd brought up the one thing they never talked about, the unbearable, invisible weight that was the last barrier between them. She'd been so careful in avoiding it, careful to swallow her words into the slowly-growing knot in her throat as she listened to Jane vent about the pressure Chief Hopper and Kali and everyone else she trusted was putting onto her about her future when all she wanted was to survive, because Max knows it's not fair, that everyone was demanding something Jane simply couldn't give them without compromising something of herself, and she didn't want to be yet another voice in Jane's life telling her what to do. Her name, her plans, her life path itself, for the first time in Jane's life she was searching for something that was only hers, and Max has watched her struggle with it for long enough that she not only loves her enough, but understands her enough to know that Max's own fear and pain at losing her should not be the reason for Jane to make her decision. Jane had chosen a path that was just for her, and Max had thought she'd accepted that and buried the dread deep inside of her, but it had only been waiting to jump out at the worst possible moment, because Max is truly as selfish and desperate as she's always feared she was, and Jane is going to know it for the rest of their precious few months together.

But Jane just says, genuine confusion in her lowered voice, “Max, I'm never going to break up with you.”

Max turns to stare at her, meeting dark, concerned eyes with her own undoubtedly-wild ones, but the reason Jane had lowered her voice so significantly throws itself onto the other side of Jane on the bench with both a grunt and the worst possible timing. “Thanks _so_ much for helping us with the game, ladies,” Annie Watson says sarcastically, not even bothering to glance at them as she pats down her still perfectly-coiffed hair. “Just because you're already losers doesn't mean that you have to make everyone around you lose, too.”

“Well, maybe if you had anything in your life besides pointless games then losing at dodgeball wouldn't be such a big deal to you,” Max snaps back with all the frantic irritation at her interrupted conversation with Jane. Jane snickers, and despite her anxiety, Max's heart throws itself towards her at the sound.

Annie throws a disdainful look at Jane out of the corner of her eye. “You think she's funny, Hopper? I would have thought you'd be tired of babysitting by now. Your 'white knight' thing at the beginning of the year was cute, but now it's a sadness even your raccoon eyes can't fix.”

“Do something useful with your mouth for once and eat shit, Annie,” Max shoots back, her nervous energy from the untold possibilities of Jane's simple words feeding her flash of rage at Annie insulting Jane. For her part, Jane remained mostly impassive at Annie's words; only someone who knew her as well as Max would know her silence came more from confusion than not caring, her brow furrowing infinitesimally as she mulls over whichever one of Annie's phrases she hadn't heard before.

Annie rolls her eyes dramatically. “God, you're both so boring. I can't even bear talking to you.”

“No one's asking you to,” Max snaps distractedly. She and Jane can't exactly continue their conversation with Annie sitting on the bench, but even if she can't ask what she'd meant, she could at least turn over Jane's words in her mind if she didn't have Annie's obnoxious jabs piercing into her brain.

“No, Maxi-Pads, it's _you_ no one is ever asking to talk to,” Annie says listlessly, gesturing past Jane towards Max without looking at either of them.

“Shut up,” Jane says at once, before Max can open her mouth to snap back recklessly. Jane turns her face towards Annie, eyes dark and narrowed in a way which would have made Max's legs give out from under her were she not already sitting down.

Annie smirks as her eyes move along with the game in front of them. “You know, Hopper, you -” She makes the mistake of glancing at Jane's glare, and Max is smug to see her eyes widen reflectively at the look on Jane's face before she scuttles a bit down the bench away from them. She settles and tosses her hair, as if that's what she'd meant to do the whole time, and although she still avoids looking at them, her voice is sneering as she continues, “You really have to work on your come-backs, now that you can't just swing your dumb, meaty fists at everything. Or are you looking for an expulsion instead of just a suspension this time?”

Max tries not to wince outwardly; so this is why Annie is no longer afraid to include Jane in her petty insults. Knowing that Jane has no way of retaliating without losing her spot in school _would_ be the only way a bully like Annie would dare step out of line in front of her. The worst part is, she's right; Jane is already unfairly disciplined by the teachers, and even Chief Hopper had agreed to escalating punishment if she'd gotten into a fight again after she'd saved Will. “I don't know if you know this, Annie, but hiding behind the teachers because you're scared of her doesn't make you look any braver,” she says loudly, trying to distract Annie from Jane.

Annie smiles sweetly. “Oh, Maxi-Pads, you'd know all about bravery. I can't imagine anything braver than fucking those repulsive nerds you follow around like -”

“Shut up,” Jane says again, and although her voice is quieter, it carries so much deadly promise that even Max stills. Jane's fingers curl into fists in her lap, so tight her knuckles turn white, and Max can practically feel her powers crackling through them.

Annie, who has still not dared to look at Jane, laughs. “Not any more clever the second time, Hopper. Don't worry, all the slutting around is actually _good_ for her image, nobody could tell whether she was really a girl under those hand-me-down boys's clothes -”

“I'm warning you, one last time,” Jane says through gritted teeth, rising off the bench with deadly slowness. Her back is to Max, but the redhead's heart picks up speed painfully in her chest when she sees her girlfriend roll one shoulder ominously.

Max shoots up, too, vibrating with pure, frustrated energy as her eyes dart back and forth between the two girls. “Annie, if you're looking for a punch in the face, literally anyone else in school would be happy to give it to you,” she says quickly. “Coach Wilkins is right there, why don't we -”

“Now who's cowering behind teachers like a baby? Should have called you Pampers instead,” Annie says mockingly, and then glances up to see Jane towering over her a second too late, eyes widening in horror.

All of the anxiety of her interrupted conversation, uncertainness about the future, irritation for the position Jane has been put in, and years of rage against Annie's pointless bullying, are a complex web in the back of her mind she will only begin to untangle afterwards, because, in the moment when she sees Jane righteously, furiously, raise her fist, Max doesn't think before she steps forward and punches Annie Watson in the mouth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is dedicated to the wonderful @mirthfully who leaves the world's best comments that single-handedly keep this garbage train going, i'm so sorry you were missing these useless lesbians but I hope you enjoy this chapter of max being utterly hopelessly whipped!!!<3  
> also shoutout to my amazing gf who was the one who actually came up with the line about turning down even Princess Leia for me, which considering how obsessed she (and max) is with sw is the most romantic line ever alsklfghf;hs all the quality things in this fic are her fault, in case you wondered why my writing got actually kind of good for one line  
> i'm so so sorry for the long wait!!! i've been soooo busy with school and life i haven't had a moment to myself but the thrilling conclusion of max's heroics shouldn't take too long to write so it shouldn't happen again!!! thank you to anyone still reading this, i appreciate you guys so much and i'm excited to write for these lesbians in every second of free time on my holiday! merry Christmas today if you celebrate, happy holidays if you don't!!!<3


	39. Chapter 39

There was no worse feeling than being trapped outside of the principal's door, helpless to do anything besides watch and wait for Jane's punishment to be decided, but, unsurprisingly, being on the inside wasn't turning out to be significantly better.

“Such a violent outburst is unprecedented,” Principal Gibbins is saying, leaning his elbows on his desk and tenting his fingers like a supervillain in one of the boys's cheesy science fiction movies. “Truly, a student with a pristine record such as yours jumping straight to violence...” He shakes his head, like he's more disappointed in her for not slowly working her way up to punching another student than the actual act itself. “Unprecedented.”

“It was _precedented_ by verbal harassment and threats to myself and another student,” Max says through gritted teeth. Next to her, Annie Watson whimpers theatrically and presses the cold compress the nurse had given her more tightly against her mouth. As far as Max could tell, she hadn't actually done much damage to Annie – she was used to fighting more with her words than her fists, and she can't even remember the last time she'd actually thrown a punch, so she's pretty sure she hurt herself more than she'd hurt the other girl. If anyone should have a cold compress, it was Max herself, she thinks, a bit bitterly, flexing her sore hand and trying not to wince outwardly as it throbs. How did Jane _do_ this regularly at the beginning of the year?

“Ms. Watson also has a perfect record, in both physical and verbal altercations,” Principal Gibbins says sternly, like she's being rude by even suggesting that someone with Annie's pristine record could be capable of misbehaving.

“Then, like with me, you see how someone with our 'perfect records' could be capable of altercations,” Max points out, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. She can tell that Principal Gibbins had made his judgment on who was at fault before she'd even opened her mouth, so she wished he would just dole out her unfair punishment instead of forcing her to sit and listen to his self-important lecturing before getting exactly the same results.

Principal Gibbins frowns at her. He seems to think that she should be impressed by his damning speech, and her attitude seems to be annoying him almost as much as she is by what he's saying. “Ms. Mayfield,” he begins, long-suffering, “there is no need for violence, no matter the individual's history. For that, you must face the consequences, and you would do well to do so with a bit of grace. The reason you are here today is already unfitting for a young woman, and you might consider part of your recourse to be working on this unladylike approach you seem to have adopted.”

It takes all of Max's inner strength not to roll her eyes. She clamps her lips shut so tightly they ache to keep her thoughts on that from escaping, as they would only prove Gibbin's point in his eyes and inevitably prolong his lecturing. Beside her, Annie shifts in her seat and makes another little squeak, but Max has the sneaking suspicion it's more of a noise of amusement than anything.

“However,” Principal Gibbins continues, dropping his voice like he's about to divulge a secret as he leans forward in his chair with barely-contained eagerness, “while your behaviour requires discipline, do not think me too obtuse to understand what influenced this sudden outburst. I am aware of what goes on in this school, and the complications thereof.”

Max glances at the floor and then back to his calculating eyes; she sincerely doubts _that_ , but pointing it out will not exactly help her situation. “Complications?” she says carefully.

Gibbins nods sagely, as if they're both aware of what is going on in this conversation. “Indeed. As children, girls in particular, you are susceptible to bad influence, and it is much easier to conform to negative behaviours than to positive ones. This sort of behaviour does not come from nowhere, and I believe getting to the root of your issues will be the answer to this problem.”

“I don't have issues,” Max says, annoyed; by now she supposes she should expect the adults at this school to be of no help, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating. Annie snickers, obvious enough for her to be sure this time, and she adds, loudly, “Actually, you're right, my _issues_ are with people like Annie getting away with -”

“You are not helping your situation, Ms. Mayfield,” Gibbins snaps. He's half-folded over his desk, face severe as he glares at her with a warning in his eyes, and she forces herself to clamp her mouth shut. “You are in enough hot water as it is; do not turn away this opportunity I am offering you. Your actions may not be salvageable, but your future behaviour can be, if we work together.”

Max glances away again, not quite understanding why she's feeling as if Gibbin's nonsensical words are closing around her like a bear trap. “What do you mean, Sir?” she says suspiciously.

“Nice girls such as yourself don't suddenly begin acting out from nowhere,” Gibbins says, and his burst of irritation from only moments ago is already gone as his weathered face shines with enthusiasm for his words. “This was not your idea. Help me punish the _true_ villain here. Tell me what Jane Hopper did to make you commit such an act.”

Max hasn't felt her vision black from pure rage since Billy had left home. Reckless with all-encompassing love and fury, her mouth drops open in her split-second indecision between saying something which will undoubtedly get her detentions until college and simply standing up to throw her second punch of the day, but to her surprise Annie beats her to any action. “But, Sir, she has to be punished,” the other girl whines, pressing her ice pack to her face so that it muffles her voice piteously. “She _hit_ me. I don't feel safe.”

“She will be disciplined to the fullest extent of the rules,” Principal Gibbins says placatingly, leaning forward over the desk and nodding at Annie reassuringly like she's a child losing her favourite toy, and it's only the pure, vibrating rage still coursing through her veins which keeps Max from rolling her eyes. “That is not up for debate. What I am trying to do is make sure everyone who is to blame is held accountable, so that this will never happen again.”

“Oh,” Annie says. As soon as she'd heard that both Max and Jane would be punished, she'd sat back in her chair, apparently so satisfied she'd forgotten to pretend to be injured. “Okay. Hopper threatened me, and the only reason she didn't hit me was 'cause Mayfield got there first.”

“She didn't threaten you!” Max bursts out furiously. The second part she couldn't argue with, but it was only true because of Annie anyway, so she wasn't going to let the bully get away with trying to use it against either of them. “You came over and started harassing _us_ , if anything you threatened _her_ when you were talking about her getting expelled -”

“Because she has a history of fights just like this one,” Gibbins interrupts her. His voice is almost gentle, like he feels sorry for her, and she bristles and grits her teeth against the tumble of words threatening to escape her pursed lips. “She is not on the brink of expulsion without reason. But, what I'm saying now is, you don't have to follow her path; you're at a fork in the road of your young life -”

“You can't punish Jane for just being around when someone else was fighting,” Max interrupts hastily, a desperate twisting in her stomach at Gibbins using the phrase _risk of expulsion_ so easily. “I don't know where you're getting the idea that she's, like, goading me into fighting, she's been a model student for -”

“If you tell me how she is at fault for this burst of violence, I will reduce your punishment,” Principal Gibbins declares abruptly.

His voice is too loud for the small room, words tumbling each other like he's been waiting to say them for too long. Max stares at him, incredulous, her desperate defence of Jane derailed by genuine surprise at the implication of his offer. “You – You want me to give you a reason to get her in trouble to save myself?” she says slowly.

Principal Gibbin's smile is grim. “She has already gotten herself into trouble, I simply need to fill in thee blanks,” he says, and continues smoothly when Max opens her mouth, “Think of how violence against another student, and, worse, suspension, would be perceived by your college of choice.”

Max's stomach goes cold. Her fingers curl around the edge of her seat as she thinks of California, the heat and the sun sparkling on glassy waves and the freedom the ocean seems to offer as endless and expansive as the water itself, how _close_ she was to never, ever seeing her step-father again, and she's just starting to mentally prepare herself like she does for a risky jump on her skateboard when she knows she's going to get injured but she's going to do it anyway, desperately debating whether she can trade one sun she loves for another, when the office door bursts open and the last person she expects fills the doorway.

“Sorry I'm late,” Chief Hopper growls, dangerously-dark eyes only for Principal Gibbins as he lets the door slam closed behind him carelessly. “Hard to be on time to a meeting no one bothered to tell you about.”

“This is not a police matter,” Gibbins says, too quickly. Max tears her bewildered gaze away from the doorway to see him sitting rigidly straight in his chair as he stares at Chief Hopper, like he's the guilty student trying to distract the teacher from his wrongdoing. “Your presence is not required here, Chief -”

“Last time I checked, assault is against the law,” Chief Hopper interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring down Gibbins like he's a criminal in a police lineup. “So I would say this falls under _police matter_ jurisdiction. I need to report it and take statements.”

Any hope Max might have been feeling at the unexpected presence of her girlfriend's father evaporates; a suspension on her school transcript would be damning enough, but a record for an actual crime, especially a violent one, would be devastating to her future. She twists in her seat anxiously to try and catch Chief Hopper's eye, praying her racing mind comes up with a defence of her actions by the time she can wrench her tensed jaw open, but before she gets a chance Principal Gibbins says coldly, “And what about this particular crime necessitates such thorough police involvement, over _certain_ other students's crimes?”

“Well, that's what the 'taking statements' part is there to find out,” Chief Hopper says sarcastically, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a thick notepad. Through the ringing in her ears Max hears Annie shift nervously next to her, but she's too preoccupied with her own terror to enjoy the other girl's. “I need to make a determination.” His eyes sweep over the two girls, eyebrows furrowed seriously as he flips the notepad open. “Names and ages?”

“Annie Watson,” Annie warbles; Max can hear the fake, extra nasally tone she'd been using earlier with Principal Gibbins thick in her voice again, and she resists the urge to roll her eyes because Chief Hopper is still watching them instead of writing Annie's information down in his notepad. “Seventeen.”

Chief Hopper's eyes move to Max, and when she only stares back like a deer in headlights, he raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Oh, uh, Max M – uh, Maxine Mayfield,” she says hurriedly; it occurs to her, belatedly, that Chief Hopper would have no reason to know her last name. As much as Jane insisted that her adoptive father approved of Max, he clearly wasn't letting it colour his investigation, and Max feels another unbearably-cold squeeze of her heart as she wonders if she'll lose everything – her future, her freedom, and her girlfriend – in this one encounter. “Seventeen.”

Chief Hopper looks up at Principal Gibbins, eyebrows somehow creeping even farther up his prematurely-lined forehead in his incredulity. “Seventeen? You've pulled two under-age girls into your office to dole out blame and punishment for assault before their parents even get here?”

Max's whole body goes cold with terror this time. She wishes furiously to have Jane's powers, just for a moment, to throw Chief Hopper back through the door, or anything to get him to stop talking; if there was one thing that scared her more than the possibility of a police record, it was her step-father.

“I didn't feel that contacting parents at this stage was necessary,” Principal Gibbins says stiffly, before Max can think of something, anything, to get the subject away from calling parents.

“Well, unfortunately, your feelings don't really trump the law,” Chief Hopper growls. “Standard procedure indicates that you shouldn't be questioning them without a parent or guardian with their best interests -”

“I am an educator, not a police officer,” Principal Gibbins says loudly, cheeks flushed as he returns Chief Hopper's glare with equal fever. “These are not school rules -”

“They're everyone's rules, because they're the law,” Chief Hopper says, louder than Principal Gibbins. “This really what you want to be doing, Gibbins? Escalate basic school discipline to have real-world consequences? Play judge to these under-age girls with no one around to tell them the most you can do without lobbying the school board is give them detentions? You want to do this, we can, but we're doing exactly what you asked for. Either it's serious enough that the police get involved and you have to turn over power, or it's a scuffle between kids and you let them go back to class. Your choice.”

“You are the parent of neither of these children,” Principal Gibbins roars. Max's gaze snaps back and forth between the two men like she's watching a tennis match, but the all-encompassing terror has melted a bit at the dawning comprehension of what Chief Hopper was really here to do and who had sent him, and she doesn't feel the need to interject any more. “When your delinquent daughter -”

“When my daughter got hauled in here - which she hasn't for months, by the way - I was both the parent and the police, so you got two-for-one when you called me. You still need both when it's not my daughter, and you currently have neither. Don't blame me for not knowing how to do your own job disciplining kids properly. I'm just trying to do mine. Which I'm still wondering whether I need to do here at all, consequently. Sounds like a cat fight to me, but I can throw a full-blown investigation and lock-down in your school if you're really concerned about the violence of these two.”

Max feverishly wishes Chief Hopper would stop purposefully baiting the furious principal who still held her fate in his hands, but Annie is the one to speak up first. “I don't think I want a lock-down and investigation,” she says, and her voice has real meekness in it now, unlike the fake whine she'd had earlier. “Why does everyone else have to get involved, too? She didn't have, like, a gun or anything.”

“Standard procedure for the safety of the students,” Chief Hopper says promptly, turning to fix Annie with an unrelenting stare. “Zero-tolerance policy means it won't just be Ms. Mayfield under investigation, either. We'll be looking into every angle of this altercations, including motive. Any and all suspect behaviour will have to be explored, including your history together, and personality assessments from other students.”

Max is grateful that her abject horror has subsided enough to let her to enjoy Annie's guilty shifting beside her, undoubtedly thinking about what other students would divulge about her _past behaviour_ towards Max and other unpopular students. “That's – That's okay. I want to... be the better person. I'll let her off with a warning. This time. 'Cause there haven't been other times, obviously, Officer.”

“You don't want to press charges?” Chief Hopper confirms. When Annie shakes her head, still holding her now most likely room-temperature ice pack to her nose, Chief Hopper turns back to Principal Gibbins with an impatient frown. “We done here?”

“Fine,” Principal Gibbins snaps, nostrils flaring. “Fine.” He turns to Max, breathing a bit more heavily than is probably necessary for having sat thunderstruck in his chair since Chief Hopper had walked into his office. “I still have the authority to determine punishment for my students, I'm sure you will agree, Chief Hopper.” Hopper makes a sarcastically-elaborate wave of one hand, and Principal Gibbins's already-ruddy cheeks flush darkly as he turns back to Max with narrowed eyes. “Do not think you have escaped any retribution today, Ms. Mayfield. Your detentions will consist not of sitting around pretending to do schoolwork, but of assisting the janitor with any duties he sees fit for you. I am certain there will be many, as you will have full days to complete them in your month of _Saturday_ detentions, commencing this coming week-end.”

Max tries not to wince; the birthday party they had been planning for Jane was this coming Saturday, and they had pre-booked so many classic birthday surprises for the cumulative celebration that she was pretty sure they wouldn't be able to reschedule or cancel at such short notice. Considering what she had been faced with earlier, she's grateful this is her biggest problem, but missing at least part of such an important first for the girl she loves still makes her stomach twist unhappily. This seems to be the reaction Principal Gibbins had been hoping for, as he appears to regain some of his lost pomp and continues with noticeably more enthusiasm, “You will also be require to write a thousand-word essay on non-violent conflict resolution and de-escalating interpersonal altercations. Submittable to me on Monday morning before classes start. And, I believe a meeting with the guidance counsellor is in order, to assess your violent tendencies.”

Max nods, trying to look chagrined while she's actually fighting to not to melt off of her chair with the overwhelming wave of relief at Principal Gibbin's words. It sounds as if he's throwing every punishment he possibility can at her, but if this is what he can condemn her to, especially in his rage at being thwarted in his plans to manipulate her into betraying Jane, Chief Hopper's earlier words about him needing approval from the school board to affect her future seems to be true.

“You are dismissed,” Principal Gibbins says imperiously. “Kindly take a pass from my secretary on your way out to submit to your teacher. On Saturday, present yourself to Mr. Karm in room 207 at 8:00 sharp. And Ms. Mayfield,” he adds, dropping his voice to that sympathetic tone he'd used to try to get her to talk before Chief Hopper had come bursting through the door like an angry bull, “do try to think about our discussion today. As an educator, I have devoted my life to helping young people such as yourself. Punishment is not my intention. I truly want to help you.”

“Okay,” Max says awkwardly, already having half-risen from her chair as soon as Principal Gibbins had uttered the word _dismissed_. “Great. Thank you.” She avoids his piercing gaze as she pushes herself fully out of her chair, letting her long ponytail swing in front of her blushing face as she tries to turn and walk towards the door without looking like she's as desperate to get out of the room as she is. Chief Hopper holds the door open for her as he steps over the threshold, stone-faced, and she's certain she doesn't breathe until he closes the door behind them the second she slips past.

She looks up at Chief Hopper, but he's already scowling over her shoulder. “I told you to go to class!” he barks.

Max's heart picks up speed pathetically even before she hears her name in that familiar, husky voice. Despite the inhumane levels of terror she'd just cycled through in a short period of time, she finds herself grinning as she turns around, and muscles she hadn't even realized were still tensed relax dreamily as she soaks in the sight of Jane hurrying towards her. She'd suspected the reason Chief Hopper would bother to come all this way to help her, but Jane's wide, galaxy-filled eyes still made her lovesick brain melt down into the pool of lava in her belly no matter how prepared she is.

“Are you all right?” Jane whispers anxiously, ignoring Chief Hopper completely as she rushes up to Max and flickers her captivating eyes over the redhead's flushed face. “What happened?”

“I'm fine,” Max smiles. She feels a little bit disoriented, probably from the exhausting meeting she'd just endured, and she stares dreamily into Jane's endless eyes as the other girl looks her over, devoutly still as Jane's galaxies rush dizzily above her.

“Barely,” Chief Hopper mutters, and Max jumps a bit; she'd been so lost in Jane she'd forgotten where she was. “Don't go pulling this crap again, Max, most of the things I said in there were not exactly above-board, and I don't want to have to go through with them. Staying off Gibbin's radar is the safest way to keep out of trouble. I only helped at all because Jane said you got her out of her own trip to the office. No more fights.”

Max's heart flutters with worry this time; his words remind her of the most ominous point in her conversation with Principal Gibbins, and she forces her gaze away from Jane's to look up at Chief Hopper. “He tried to get me to pin it on her,” she whispers, glancing furtively at Shirley the secretary to make sure she wasn't listening before she continues. “He said he would lessen my punishment for information about her. He wanted me to say she's instigating fights, and she peer-pressured me into it, or something.”

Chief Hopper's face darkens, and the expression is enough to make Max fearfully swear off any future crime she might have considered committing while under his jurisdiction. “Did he now,” he growls, and he whips around to yank Principal Gibbin's door handle so forcefully Max is surprised it doesn't rip off the polished wood. She takes a shaky step backwards, but he pauses, and to her surprise he lifts his hand from the knob and places it, heavy and warm, on her shoulder. “Thanks, Max,” he says quietly, and then, as suddenly as he'd stopped, he resumes reaching down to turn the knob and flings the door open again to stomp back inside. Max hears Annie's tearful voice cut off just before the door slams forcefully right in her face.

Jane steps closer to her, and Max's gaze is drawn away from the door to her girlfriend irresistibly. “Are you really okay?” Jane says. “No punishment?”

“Just detentions,” Max says, making a face, even as Jane's proximity draws a smile out of her. “Saturdays, just to make it suck more. He was mostly throwing his weight around once the Chief got there. Thanks, by the way, you really saved my butt by sending him. I can see why you have so much faith in his problem-solving skills.”

“Hop can handle things like this,” Jane says confidently, and Max has yet another reason to be grateful to Chief Hopper as she sees the truth of it shine in the endless eyes she loves so much. Jane glances away, though, and Max has to resist the urge to cup her sculpted cheek and lead that beautiful face back towards her own. “I'm sorry,” Jane whispers. “I got so mad when she talked about you. I shouldn't have listened to her. Then you wouldn't be in trouble.”

“Hey,” Max says softly, and her skin prickles deliciously, like she's just stepped into the sun, when Jane's eyes rise to meet her own. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Annie's the one who was being a dick, and she's the reason I have detentions. Just like when you had detentions because of Troy. They're the assholes trying to get a rise out of us. Okay?” Jane's little smile as she nods, bashful and lopsided and more luminous than the Milky Way, makes her so precariously close to losing her head and doing something even more dangerous than punching Annie, like kissing Jane or, worse, asking her about her impossible, intoxicating promise she'd made that they would never break up, right there in the very public school office, that she hastily shoves her hands into her pockets to ground herself. As the gym shorts she belatedly remembers she's still wearing tug a little bit further down her hips than she'd been expecting, she allows herself one, all-to-brief glance at Jane's perfect, equally-bare legs before she forces herself to look away from her girlfriend towards the reception desk. “Guess we'd better find some clothes or they won't let us into the chemistry lab, huh?”

“Yes,” Jane says, and the amusement in her voice makes Max think that the readjusting of her gym shorts hadn't been quite as subtle as she'd thought it was.

“C'mon,” Max says, grinning over her shoulder as she leads the way towards the reception desk. Jane smirks back at her, and she has to blink dazedly a few times adjust to the bleak office lights when she looks away from Jane's radiance towards Shirley the secretary. “Principal Gibbins said to ask you for passes to give to our teachers,” she explains to the older woman.

Shirley frowns at her, and Max belatedly forces the goofy smile from Jane's presence off of her face. “You're lucky you're going back to class at all, young lady,” Shirley says, sliding open a drawer in her desk with an air of disapproval and pulling out one laminated square pass. “You, I assume, are waiting for your father, although I don't see _what_ he could be saying about you skipping class right under Principal Gibbin's nose,” she adds to Jane dismissively.

Max's heart squeezes; she'd been so preoccupied with her own punishment that she'd forgotten to worry about Jane, who had already served a suspension and would undoubtedly earn a much worse fate than Saturday detentions and essays. “He said she had to go back to class too,” Max blurts out. Shirley's eyes flicker to hers, doubtful, and she tries to rearrange her expression into some semblance of confidence as her mind whirls, looking for a viable excuse for Jane. “Principal Gibbins did. She was supposed to stay because Chief Hopper was here, but the Principal said it could be awhile and they didn't need us for the... paperwork, so she isn't allowed to miss any more class. Plus, she shouldn't have been allowed to hang around in her uniform outside the gym, so she has to go get changed into real clothes and get back to class as soon as possible.”

She returns Shirley's suspicious frown, like she's implying it's a bit Shirley's fault that Jane has been sitting around the office in what Principal Gibbins allegedly thinks is an indecent outfit, and the secretary's eyes flit to the closed office door. “You can ask Chief Hopper about it, if you want,” Max adds, boldly. “He seemed pretty mad that Jane hadn't been dealt with, though.”

Shirley's cheeks flush, and Max tries to keep the triumphant expression off of her face. “No dilly-dallying on your way to class,” Shirley says, avoiding their eyes as she reaches down to pull another pass from her desk drawer. “The teachers return the passes at the end of the day with the time you arrived written on them, so Principal Gibbins will know if you skip a class.”

“We wouldn't,” Jane says, quiet and brazen, and Max has to turn away quickly so that Shirley doesn't see the grin split her face. They barely make it out of the office doors before they burst into laughter, and Max uses the excuse to lean on her girlfriend's shoulder as she cackles so loudly it echoes through the empty hallway. All of the stress of the afternoon seems to roll off of her shaking shoulders as she laughs, although it is more likely Jane's overwhelming gravity, pulling every negative feeling from her skin and replacing it with warmth from the suns in her galaxies, and Max can't imagine feeling frozen just a few short moments ago in Principal Gibbin's office as they swallow the last of their snickers and collapse against the wall behind them.

“Thank you, Max,” Jane whispers, capturing her helpless eyes in that tractor-beam gaze as she smiles her lopsided, sunlit smile.

The way her head lols against the wall behind them, arching her neck and tilting her chin upwards just enough to display the graceful, extremely kissable edge of her jawline, makes Max sweat in ways both gym class and Principal Gibbin's office combined hadn't. “You don't have to thank me,” Max says, and then swallows loudly.

Jane just smiles at her for a long moment, eyes liquid heat as they travel over every inch of Max's face to rest a few beats too long on her lips before she pushes off the wall. “We should change,” she says, reluctance in her voice even as she starts to lead the way down the hallway towards the gymnasium.

It takes Max a moment too long to join her, both because of her staring and because she has to test her jellied knees before she's confident that they'll support her enough to walk. “Yeah,” she agrees, watching her feet as they walk and scratching the base of the elastic in her hair with sweaty fingertips. “Not that I want to, but I'd rather sit through the last few hours of the day than let Chief Hopper catch us still lurking around the halls not in class.”

Jane snickers behind one hand, and Max has to work not to trip over her own feet in her awe. “I think today got you one _Get-out-of-jail-free_ card,” she smirks.

Max laughs, a bit surprised at the reference. “Oh, god, don't tell me Chief Hopper subjected you to Monopoly. Actually, I know he can't have, because you two still seem to like each other.”

“We didn't play it,” Jane says, smiling at her a bit curiously out of the corner of her eye. “He showed me the card when he made a joke about one of his criminals and I didn't know what it meant. Is it not good? I like Mike's board games.”

“Yeah, because we only play _fun_ board games,” Max points out, basking in Jane's answering snicker. “Trust me, Monopoly is one real-world experience you don't need to have. D &D's kind of the opposite, you have to work together to succeed instead of fucking each other over, which is way more fun.”

“Yes,” Jane smiles. She's glowing, the luminous universes inside of her shining in Max's peripheral vision, and Max grins stupidly at her feet, reaching up to finally pull her ponytail free of its elastic for something to do with her shaking hands. “D&D is this week-end?”

“I think so,” Max says, trying not to smile too knowingly as she opens the door for her girlfriend. Continuing their game of Dungeons and Dragons had been the excuse the party had given Jane to get her to Will's house for her party on Saturday, although now that Max would be in detention she wasn't sure how well the false pretense will work. She internally curses Principal Gibbins, and Annie for good measure, forcing her eyes to stay on her own sneakers as Jane's long, perfect legs tease the edge of her vision when the punk girl walks through the hallway doors in front of her. “Might turn into a board game afternoon, now, until I get there, but it'll still be fun. Especially now that you know to avoid Monopoly.”

“Oh,” Jane mutters, and there's a frown in her voice now. “Yes. Saturday detention is all day.”

Max shrugs; she's never had a Saturday detention before, but she had been expecting as much. “It's okay. I'll just come meet you guys afterwards. You all won't even notice I'm not there.”

“I will,” Jane says quietly. Her chapped knuckles brush Max's, unmistakable and too bold even though the hallway is still empty, and Max's heart pounds itself against her abused ribs rhythmically, attempting to escape its cage to get to Jane with every beat.

Again, the urge to ask Jane about her offhand comment about their future grips Max almost unbearably, and she's just pursing her lips, trying desperately to stamp down both the words and the stupid, lovesick smile threatening to stretch her quivering mouth, when the school bell signalling the end of class sounds through the empty hallway. Students pour from the classrooms around them, and Jane pulls an adorably-annoyed face and speeds her steps, ploughing a clear path through the growing crowd towards the gym. Max swallows her words and the lump in her throat and follows her girlfriend, and she's so preoccupied that she almost runs into Jane's back when the punk girl stops abruptly in front of the gymnasium. Lucas is already standing in front of the changing room doors, one confused eyebrow cocked as he glances between their bare legs and the closed gym doors, and Max can't help her grin as she pauses by her girlfriend's side and squeezes her elbow in what hopefully looks like a platonic gesture.

“I've got this,” she says quietly, nodding to Lucas. “It's too long of a story for us both to tell, and he's going to turn into a mother hen and try to examine my hand when he hears what happened. You go get changed, and I'll meet you in chem, all right?”

“You'll be late,” Jane says, a worried little wrinkle between her eyebrows as she glances down at Max's hand like she wants to start fussing over it, too.

“Nah,” Max smiles, “always forgetting your gym clothes makes you get changing down to a science. I know how to shut down his twenty questions. Go, before he traps both of us, I'm right behind you.”

Jane's luminous eyes hold hers for a breathless moment, smiling, and then she nods and turns away, leaving Max blind and dizzy like she'd just been staring directly into the sun. In a way she had been, she muses, forcing herself not to watch Jane's bare legs lope away from her in favor of turning towards her best friend, smirk only widening at his impatient expression.

“So which character from 'The Breakfast Club' do you think I'm most like?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is dedicated to @depressioncuddles bc they stan protective max (it's what she deserves!!!) i hope you like all the protective max in this chapter (and a lil protective jane on the side) with lesbian cuteness!!!  
> speaking of i stan ALL y'all who are still reading this, i'm really sorry and i promise to try to answer comments as soon as possible and start working on the next chapter (and requests) tonight, i cherish every one of you!!!<3

**Author's Note:**

> I love you, Max, you useless lesbian
> 
> It's pretty short but as Christmas holidays start I'll have more time to write, let me know how you feel about this!!!


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